HumaNature

“What I’m trying to say,” Dan hissed at me as he tended to his I-just-lost-a-fight-with-a-mountain wounds, “is that I love nature, but I’m not a fan of wilderness.” In uttering these words, my best friend here joined the ranks of many who also lay claim to such a love hate relationship.

If you want to ride with me...

I’ve never really considered myself a superstitious person. The number 13 was only significant when I finally became a teenager, and even then it was only the bee’s knees for one year. All of those mirrors I managed to break over the years? I collect that shit and eat it for breakfast! And that whole bit about bad luck from walking under ladders is hogwash and balderdash. When you line them up in a hardware store, they just make for a fantastic obstacle course.

Such a happy mistake...

Never in my life had I ever thought to myself “Brogan. Do you know what you need? You need to buy yourself an audio book!” This is probably because I don’t do much talking to myself.

Okay. That was a flat out lie. I tend to talk to myself to the point of what many of you would consider insanity. Rephrased: I don’t talk to myself like that. That’s much too formal.

Visiting Eyes

I have been fortunate in my lifetime to have already done a good deal of traveling. By some standards, I’m still very much a novice, but by many others I’m an upper class world explorer. That has a nice ring to it actually. I think there should be a world explorer patch. They’ll give it out once you acquire a certain number of travel points. Let’s make it a thing…it’ll be great.

Listen up folks...

This is serious. When someone has a monstrous hole the size of Texas down the ass of their pants, you need to let them know.

This should be so far beyond moral imperative. Beyond even civic duty. From this day forth, I will petition for this to be made universal law! Mandate of Brogie McDoogerson!

Forever Homeless

One of my many dreams in life is to become a professional actor. I’m talking Broadway folks, not silver screen. And I want the whole dream. Starving artist, waiting tables, selling myself for lunch money, the whole bit. So a long while ago, I came to terms with the fact that at some point in my very exciting lifetime, I will live in a box. It will be a bitchin’ swanky dank box as far as boxes go…but a box nevertheless.

Yes, dear friends, I have accepted my inevitable homelessness.

Revelations in a stall...

I want to take a moment right here and now to explain something about myself: I have never been one who understood the phrase ‘shit or get off the pot.’ There are times when nature calls you over and over, and then the bitch puts you on hold while she plays crappy elevator music on repeat. Nobody can poop to bad elevator music! And then there are times when all you can do is sit and wait, absently staring at the stall door and mentally taking a mallet to the guy one stall over who seems to have an endless deluge of Hershey squirts. All of the offensive messages and phone numbers for skank-tastic adventures can be read only so many times before they, too, lose their appeal.

Facial Feelings

Rubbing a spoon on your face feels awesome.

I can just picture your faces now. Doubting eyes and disbelieving scowls. But I ask you this: Have you ever tried rubbing a spoon on your face? No? Then stifle your nonsense looks and listen!

Messy Me

Sorry for being out of it the last few days. Life has taken a drastic turn, and my ability to write faltered for a day or two. But tonight, I took a short while and wrote a poem (something I haven't done in YEARS).

Finding time to play...

For those of you who are as of yet unaware, I am a grown man currently working a job I have no passion for simply to pay my bills. In this regard, I’m like 99% of everyone ever. But unlike most of the others out there for whom this is true, I am a genuinely happy person who is content with life on the day to day.

My secret? I allow myself to have “too much fun.”

About once a week, usually while I’m cashiering at work, I’ll actually have someone come up to me and tell me to my face “You’re having way too much fun.” This is something I’ve heard from co-workers, customers, and even friends while we are out and about. All of you probably don’t think too much about what you’re revealing when you say this, but it tells me worlds about you.

You, my dear fun starved friends, are all dangerously close to killing your inner child.

I don’t know what it is that people find so threatening about an adult being happy with the little wonders of the world. There is something terribly wrong with our society and its views on what constitutes adulthood. Any adult that takes joy in something simple is often considered “childish” or “a little bit off.” Fun fact, I’ve been told I’m both of these things while my name caller looked me straight in the eyes. Day after day, hordes of people allow the idea of time to corrode their inner essence until there’s nothing left but the wretched shell of a former innocent.

Well…I flat out refuse!

I am 23 years old, and I love to play with balloons. I think stickers are one of the best things ever invented, and I will make trips at 1AM to the nearest 24 hour convenience store for a good coloring book and a pack of crayons.

I am a college graduate, and I still use the force to open automatic sliding doors. I am convinced that I am a water bender as I have become quite proficient with making whirlpools in the sink, and blowing large bubbles when I wash my hands is turning into a regular sport.

I use hard earned money for my gas, tune ups and car insurance, and I still like to drive around pretending my car is a spaceship. I pull up next to semi trucks, make a big L with my arm, and I don’t stop pumping until I hear them blow the horn.

I am old enough to get minors into R rated movies, but I will still sing along loud and proud to any Disney movie from beginning to end.

I have enough experience to know that time should not be wasted, and I still choose to spend some of it talking to trees, birds and squirrels. I stop to look at bugs, flowers, shiny things, ugly things, things that smell, and things that make funny noises.

I use my own personal credit card to make purchases online, and when the package finally arrives, I spend an hour playing with the box.

I blow bubbles in my milk. I smile at the moon. I try to make the traffic lights change colors with my mind. I would rather teach my puppy how to climb up to my shoulders than to sit and stay. I draw faces on the presidents when I check if the bills are real. I make up words on a daily basis. I eat breakfast for dinner.

I find the time to play. And so should you.

Don’t allow yourself to fall away into the cold of being an “adult,” whatever the hell that means. Please take a minute of your Monday and remind yourself to live instead of just exist. If you ever find yourself thinking that you’re having too much fun, don’t fight it. If anything, I promise you that you’re not having enough.

Once they’re truly dead, not even inner children can come back. I believe that with every fiber of my being. So I don’t know about you, but I plan to live my entire life being happy. Even on the down days, there are small beauties that shouldn't go unnoticed. I want to so liberate my inner child that I end my life walking beside him into our next big adventure.

What about you?

Some things are just true...

Feet are ugly as sin.

Really, have you ever just looked at them? Especially here in Florida where winter can still be considered flip flop season, I’ve had ample opportunity for viewing the shoeless masses. And to be clear, by masses I mean those slabs of meat that balance the rest of you when you’re standing.

Let’s take a serious look at our feet for a minute.

The entire human body seems to flow in one direction. Yes, our arms can move about when we force them. But when we allow them to lie naturally, they fall in line with the rest of our being. From our head to our ankles, the body is a uniform mechanism. Then we have the feet. They sit there jutting out all perpendicular to the rest of the glorious human form disrupting the linear design of things. Disgusting!

This ungainly blob of flesh and bone isn’t content with simply messing up our body shui. Of course not! It splits off at the end into five (give or take) either ridiculously nubby or obscenely long and claw-like phalanges. One of these things happens to be bulbous! If you look at people when they sit and roll their feet, their toes bend to and fro, up and down, all around. The soles of their feet wrinkle and crease. Its really quite unpleasant.

And don’t get me started on when you get these things wet. Blech!

Now please don’t misunderstand. Especially given my recent toe injury, I fully respect the miracle and anatomical beauty of the foot. Here we have 26 bones working together with more than a hundred muscles, tendons, and ligaments in order to get us from point A to point B. And unless you do something to royally screw up this plan, they work pretty flawlessly. Without feet, I think we would be a pretty cumbersome species. But as it stands (see what I did there? Stands…like on feet), the human body is designed with these finely tuned appendages that carry the weight of our body. That’s actually pretty damn awesome.

Aside from the normal intricacies of the foot, the world is full of amazing stories like this: Amazing woman using her feet as hands

This woman is not the only person in the world who has learned to use her feet for pretty much everything. When you look at how great the foot’s dexterity can be, it is really awe inspiring. I mean, she can lift groceries, fold laundry, and drive a car with only her feet. She can drive, for goodness’ sake! And when the time comes to be gentle with her baby, she can easily change his diaper. That’s amazing!

When you take the time to consider their intricacies, you can’t ignore how wonderful feet actually are.

But they’re still fuckin’ ugly.