It’s a thing I do often.

So, what is pondering?

Pondering is thinking, but it is deeper than just thinking, it has ramifications.

I sometimes ponder about serious things like, What is our purpose?

But then sometimes I ponder about the more mundane, and I discovered that farts smell for the benefit of the deaf.

Or I sink into the realms of the ridiculous and I realised that turds have a tapered end to prevent sphinctus guillotinus. Can you imagine your arsehole snapping shut, it wouldcertainly send shivers throughout your very being, easily becoming confused with an orgasm. I know that having a crap is an emotional experience, it should be, but the relief afforded shouldn’t become confused with the more earth shattering experience of sex. God in his infinite wisdom created the tapered-ended turd simply to limit the eventuality of coprophilia. Yes, I know there are some who can’t tell the difference and I am glad to say that none are within my circle of friends, nor acquaintances.

Recently, ah this morning in fact, I pondered… My regular readers will realise that when I think it sends danger signals throughout the known universe. You should, by now, be aware of the same after reading the tripe above.

The reasons that the incidence of those suffering from the dire need to meddle in other peoples’ lives and become psychologists has increased exponentially in the last two decades.

Yes they have. When I was a kid you never heard about psychologists and if you actually went to one you never mentioned it; you never told a soul. But in today’s world, it’s a benchmark, a milestone, it’s chique… It’s a lot of bullshit!

Why do we send our kids to psychologists?

Because we want our kids to be normal. Horrors, normal! I tried that once and it was a disaster. Normal is boring in the extreme; and you want to condemn your kids to boredom. That’s tantamount to child abuse.

Grandfather of the iPod

Can you imagine a world full of normal people? Would we have great art if van Gogh had been normal? Would we be arguing today over CFLs in favour of incandescent lightbulbs if Thomas Alava Edison had been normal? Indeed would we have had iPods? Can you imagine if the Beatles or Elvis Presley had been normal, OMG we’d still be listening to Bing Crosby. Can you imagine if we didn’t have homosexuals because we’d straightened them all out, the world would have been deprived of geniuses in the arts and sciences.

Being not-normal is being human, but we insist on the idea, I want my kid to be rich, I want him to be a doctor, I want grandchildren.

Nobody gives a flying pig

Nobody gives a flying pig what you want; what about what the kid wants. Nobody ever thinks about what the kid wants. Maybe he doesn’t want to be rich, or a doctor, or get married – or not and have kids.

So we shunt our kids of to the child psychologist to be made normal.

The child psychologists doesn’t care if your kid becomes normal or not. What the child psychologist is concerned about is the $64,000 (average) he or she makes annually, can I buy that new SUV and have a bigger carbon footprint this week. They are the things that are important to a child psychologist.

Buy another goldfish

We have to stop all this namby-pamby bullshit. A kid has to make mistakes, a kid has to bear the good with the bad, a kid has to take the bumps and scapes of life in order to have a life. We have to stop this mentality of, “OMG the goldfish died, off to the psych!” Just get him/her another freakin’ goldfish; it’s cheaper than a psycholgist.

See, that’s what pondering is about, that’s why it’s dangerous; sometimes you see the truth in all its horrid nakedness.

The Party

Went to the party on Sunday, the folks loved my meatballs and stuffed eggs. I discovered they did have beer and there was lots of food. I got home in time for the football (soccer for our American cousins), the hallmark of a good day out.

Off to work.

Later.

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