Category Archives: goofiness

What to Write About Today…

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I have to admit it.  I am pretty goofy.

Probably not Harpo Marx levels of goofy.

But close.

So, I have gone back and looked at what I  have been writing about during the course of my relentless three-year write-a-thon.  I am artist enough to recognize patterns.  At least, I can recognize the big and obvious ones.  Okay, I admit it, sometimes, while thinking, I am really only pretending to think.  That makes me kinda like Harpo, doesn’t it?

I reread one of what I think are my best works just now because somebody viewed it online for some reason I will never know.  The essay is Toccata and Fugue in D Minor written on March 23rd of 2017.  In that essay, I compare a super-condensed version of my life story to Johan Sebastian Bach’s masterwork, one that is represented in Disney’s masterwork Fantasia. My thesis was basically, “Living life is like a piece of classical music.”  Yep, total nonsense.

But that is not nearly as nonsensical as the nonsense I wrote in The Dancing Poultry Conspiracy Theory.  That one should make me ashamed of myself.  Not to mention the danger inherent in revealing a thing that governments of the world have worked so hard to suppress the knowledge of.  There is something seriously wrong with any government who would let wackos use the mysterious martial art of Ententanz Fu on anybody.

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I also fairly recently wrote a poem about writing poetry.  It was called The Secret Behind Poetry and in the course of the poem I carefully reason out that I have no idea at all what the secret behind poetry is.

I am epically good at writing bad poetry.  That is why I was chosen to host the Interstellar Bad Poetry Challenge which I did badly, getting no entries at all from Planet Earth, and being forced to settle on the submissions I posted in The Ixcanixian Bad Poetry Challenge

As I have not yet been vaporized by Ixcanixian skortch rays, then I guess I did the challenge badly enough to satisfy the intergalactic poetry lords of Ixcanix.  I offer that here as proof that I am really pretty bad at writing poetry.

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I am also pretty good at taking an idea and turning it upside down to get a good look at its bottom and to flatten its top a bit.  I did that in an essay called Pessimism as a Super Power.

I suppose it is really about losing a writing contest, but the thesis is valid.  One can save themselves a lot of grief by always expecting the worst outcome to happen.  You are never disappointed according to what you expected unless it is turned into a pleasant surprise.  I also admit that is really a Benjamin Franklin idea, but if you turn Ben upside down, he’s already a bit flat on the top of his bald head and he has an interesting pantalooned bottom.  (That is supposed to be a joke, so try not to be too disgusted with me.)

So, what will I actually write about today?  What is the pattern I am supposed to follow?  Well, it seems pretty obvious, I am basically unpredictable.  So maybe today I will just recycle some old posts and pretend I have been thinking.

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Really Odd Things are in the “Wrong File”

On my computer I keep a lot of picture files for inspiration both as an artist and a writer.  One of those files is labeled simply the “Wrong File”.  Everything in that picture file is in there for the wrong reason.  Or does a wrong file need to be filled with the wrong stuff for the right reason?  I don’t know.  There is a lot wrong with this world.  The fact that I am going to post stuff from the “Wrong File” is merely proof of that.

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Liking Grumpy Cat posts on Facebook is an oxymoron of the lowest order.  It is an example of what is wrong in the “Wrong File”.

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Certain puns are just so wrong in a fundamental way.  That’s right.  They are both fun and mental.  So that’s wrong.

 

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As an educator I am aware that this thing we thought was true is now an untrue fact.  That’s wrong also.  My left brain tells me so.  But my right brain tells me it feels right.

Yes, these things are wrong.  Just wrong.

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Why did I put this in here?  This is not wrong.  This is right.  So I must’ve put it in the wrong file.  So that’s all right, then.

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Putting this in a file my wife could find on my laptop… Yes, that was wrong.

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Saddle shoes have been wrong for many years now.  I still draw them on the feet of kids, especially girls, especially school-age girls, and that is especially especially wrong because it means I am just too old and out of fashion.’

Boy!  Is that wrong!

These things are all older than me, but I remember two of them.  Is that wrong?

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I’m not sure I believe this is wrong.  So is that wrong?  To believe that it is right, I mean?  I’m probably wrong.

 

 

988289_10201821431282097_1326790710_nMy wife constantly tells me I am wrong… about everything.  And I probably am.  So that is not right.  And if you think that’s my wife in the picture, you would be wrong.  She’s much larger than that in real life.

And many people find surrealism is wrong.  Surreal is when you put wrong things together on purpose to make something that almost seems right.

So that’s what odd about the “Wrong File”,  It is so wrong that it is right.

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Mickey Makes Manga Art

I always loved this song.  When I was a boy, it was the song I would sing when I was alone in the darkness.  It made me feel better, able to march toward home in spite of potential spooks and brain-eating zombies.  The weight of the invisible future world could not drag me down if this tune was in my head, filling it with helium and good spirit; it allowed me to fly.

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And when I listened to it playing on the radio…  I always paused and listened to at least a couple of verses no matter what I was doing… I never once thought of Johnny Nash as a black man.  I didn’t know he was black until I first saw a picture of him.  But even then I didn’t think, “Oh, he’s a black man.”  I thought, “Oh, he’s a man like me.”  But, I, of course, am not black.  I’m not really white either.  I am a kind of pale pink to mauve mottled color with dark pink psoriasis spots in random places all over me. It is the man on the inside that is like Johnny Nash, full of uplifting things, and goofy grins, and… hopefully, hope.

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But when I was young it wasn’t only singing “I Can See Clearly Now…” in my goofy farmboy voice that filled my head with air and allowed me to float away from the troubles of the world.  I also learned to draw Manga style, in the tradition of Osamu Tezuka’s Astroboy , filtered through hours of practice copying Walt Kelly’s Pogo characters and various Disney cartoons.

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I copied the over-large eyes and big-headed cutsieness that informed the Japanese idea of the world after the atom bombs fell on Hiroshima and Nagasaki.  I tried to capture innocence and wonder and adventure in drawings that took my mind off the terrible things of my childhood, being sexually assaulted, the assassinations of JFK and his brother RFK, and Martin Luther King Jr, the Viet Nam War, and Nixon with Watergate.  You can reclaim innocence and peace of mind, if you get the lines just right, and the proportions are good, and the character has just the right expression on their sweet little faces.

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Okay, maybe not always so sweet and innocent.  This is not the Dorothy I would want to mess with.  This girl is cocky, sure of herself, and more than a little impish.  A destroyer of wicked witches, that one.

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But that’s what Manga Art is all about.  You whistle away the darkness one drawing at a time.  And there’s plenty of darkness to whistle away anymore, isn’t there?  What with Tronald Dump taking on the NFL over the American Flag and National Anthem, Tronald Dump taking on Jim Kong Oon in an insult war backed up by ICBMs, and Congress busily trying to take away all our access to health care.  (I know I misspelled some names there, but I am tired of talking about that guy that Dorothy told me I should call the “orange-faced poop sack.”  No, Dorothy, I can’t call him that.  Using language like that robs my head of its helium.)  So, what do I do now about the state of the world?  Well, here is the Manga Art I drew last night.

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Catgirl and White-haired Snow White with a ping pong ball in her mouth.

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Filed under artists I admire, artwork, autobiography, cartoons, cartoony Paffooney, commentary, goofiness, goofy thoughts, humor, Paffooney, strange and wonderful ideas about life

Playing with Metal Miniatures

My family Dungeons and Dragons game has always been enhanced by my vast collection of miniature figures that I have collected and even painted over the course of almost forty years.  But I am always ready to collect more.  I even still have a large number of unpainted minis to finish.  But Walmart recently started selling collectible metal minis in box sets for $5 apiece.   So, that has brought Harry Potter to the Cardboard Castle.

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Here you see Dumbledore leading Harry, Hermoine, and Ron to the front castle gate.

These metal miniatures are a little larger than the usual scale, so Ron doesn’t quite fit through the tower door on his right.  And I don’t have character game statistics on these particular wizards, but that won’t take me long.

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Dumbledore meets a swordgirl I painted over a quarter of a century ago.

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Harry and friends meet a couple of happy wererats that arrived at the castle before them.

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The gang gets to check out some of the unique scenery and meet some of the resident monsters.

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Big Jumbo the elephant has volunteered to guard the castle gate if everyone goes inside for a big feast.

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Ditty and the Gladiator kill a dragon to make dragon burgers for the feast.

So this week’s D & D post is about metal miniatures.  It shows you how bad this old man has gotten when it comes to playing with his toys.

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D & D Action Pictures

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I finished my fantasy battle scene started over a week ago.  In many ways it was just like a D & D battle fought on the table top with miniatures, a battlefield grid, and dice.  It had to happen in steps.

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Remember this step?  The pen and ink step?  That isn’t even the first step.  But pencil drawings don’t photograph and reproduce as well as pen and ink.

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And then the colored pencil work had to proceed a section at a time.

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I basically went character by character, starting with the good guys.

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And that is the same way the combat occurs.  Shandra the Unicorn Maiden rolled an 18 for initiative on the twenty-sided dice.  So she attacked first.  She only got a 15 on the attack roll, however, so her wand of silver-fire only did five points of damage, depriving the kobold of one claw arm.  The shadow archer (not pictured because he was invisible at the time) had a 16 on initiative and an 18 on attack, so he wounded Sammy the Satyr with a two-point damage from his crossbow bolt to Sammy’s left arm, preventing the young satyr from attacking during the round.  Turkoman the Wizard was next, using his wand of fire-bolts to attack the skeleton-ghost, igniting its death shroud and making it drop its magic +2 long sword.  You can see both Greebo the Half-orc and the evil beast-thing have not yet taken their turns in the combat.  Seriously, a three-round combat seems to take forever in the D & D game.

So. there you have it.  My Dungeons and Dragons post for this week is simply an excuse to show off the newest silly drawing I did, brag a little bit, and play silly word-games even more.  I hope I didn’t stretch your patience to the breaking point yet again.

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Becoming a Nudist

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I have been to a nudist park and taken all my clothes off one time and one time only so far.  Yesterday was supposed to be visit number two.  On a Saturday there were supposed to be more visitors to meet and get to know… and I mean really get to know.  But it didn’t happen because of weather and poor health.  It rained.  And my blood sugar was a long way from perfect.  In many ways it was a relief not to go.  I was nervous about being with a crowd of naked people.  I was nervous about how to act and where to go, and especially, “What are the most embarrassing mistakes that beginning nudists make?”

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Because I figure I will probably make them.  And will it be extra embarrassing because I am walking around naked?  Probably.

But I do think it is not going to be a mere one-time experience that I will never do again.  I think I am committed to going back, not just because I am supposed to be writing for a nudist website, but because it benefits me health-wise, both physically and mentally.

To be specific, I have visited the Bluebonnet nudist park near Alvord, Texas. It is a beautiful campground and clubhouse facility.  I borrowed pictures from their website to post on this blog and give them a bit of extra advertising.

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Here’s the things that benefited me the most.  I got to meet some of the most welcoming and accepting people you ever want to meet.  They are polite, interesting to talk to, and just as naked and vulnerable as I am.  You can’t get much more socially equal than when you are talking to naked people.

The sunshine was also a very good thing for me.  The problem I have with psoriasis in old age is that the plaques and sores that result are never quite dry enough to heal when you are wearing clothes in the Texas heat.  But in the nude in the midst of nature, I felt cool and dry and hadn’t even a hint of the old itch that made me want to tear my skin off.

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They have a beautiful pool there, which I had all to myself during that first visit.  The picture with people in it is from their website.  It is one of two pools that they have there for weekly water-volleyball.

I didn’t believe it would be so relaxing and fun the first time I went, but I can safely say the feel of it, the sense of accomplishment of it, the feeling of self-acceptance it gives me, was worth all the risk of embarrassment I faced.  It was a stupid thing to do.  But I am not the only idiot drawn to it.  There are actually thousands of nudists in the United States.  There are even more  in Canada too.  I am actually glad I did it.  And though I didn’t make it back there on Saturday as originally planned, I do think I will be doing it again.

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The Naked Truth About That Idiot Mickey

Well, I still can’t believe it, but I went ahead and did it.  Did what you ask?  Especially did what that makes me put the word idiot in the title you ask, after reflecting for a moment?  Well, I did tell you I agreed to write for a naturist website about the first time visiting a nudist park.  And, well… as nervous and as fearful and as willing to run and hide somewhere that the idea made me, especially with my splotchy-spotted psoriasis skin, I went.

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Yes, the nearby nudist park is called Bluebonnet.  It is located between Decatur and Alvord, Texas.  I had to call ahead and make an arrangement to be met at the gate and escorted in to the office to sign up for a day visit.  I had to call at least a day ahead of time.  I debated with myself for hours before I dialed that number.  Actually, once I took the step of calling in, it seemed all down hill from there.  My feet just sorta took me there, aided by my little car of course.  If you have read about my crazy adventures in nudity on this blog, you know that I have been around nudists and naturists before.  But I was never the one willing to be naked in the presence of others before, especially not people I didn’t already know as well as I know family members.  Stark naked in front of people!  And some of them are female!!!

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The front gate suggests I am entering a different world!

My knees felt like jelly as I reached the gate.  But there was no reason to turn around and go an hour and a half back home without at least trying.  So I called and they opened the gate.

The lady office manager was from the Philippines just like my wife.  She was easy to talk to and made me feel comfortable as we talked about my visit.  We were both wearing clothes at that point, not  a hard thing at all to accomplish.  So I paid a reasonable price and was given the run down on expected behaviors and rules.  This wasn’t some madhouse orgy site or such nonsense as that.  It was actually a family-oriented naturist club.  They expect you to act like any other camper in any other campground, just acting that way with no clothes on.

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Here’s a picture of the two swimming pools by the clubhouse to prove I actually went in.  Didn’t think I could actually do it, did you?  I didn’t have to worry about the no-pictures of other guests rule because it was 104 degrees Fahrenheit on Friday when I visited.  No sensible people were out naked in the sun.  In all I only met three other nudists, the office   manager and two gentlemen who weren’t much younger than me.  Everybody was pleasant and very encouraging.  No mention was made of my spotty old carcass, not even by me.  That kind of thing apparently never comes up.  They did all encourage me to enjoy the club and come back often enough  to become a member.  I actually found being naked to be quite pleasant. I hiked in the woods where it was shady.  I sat by the pool in the shade, and eventually swam.  I think I promised you before I would never inflict a picture of my naked spotted old carcass on you.  And I will hold myself to that promise now… even if I didn’t make that promise before.  I will, however, use a cartoon of brand new nudist Mickey to give you an idea of the nightmares you could be having if I didn’t keep that promise.

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So now I can write my naturist blog and tell other nudists all about my first time as a nudist at Bluebonnet Naturist Resort in Texas.  And the craziest thing of all is, I am actually beginning to think about going back and doing it again.  What is wrong with me?

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