Yep, the state of the onion is stinky. The great onion that is our world is hyuge. And it tastes like an onion. Especially if you eat it from the inside out. Mmm… I love onions. I want to eat them all myself, every onion in this garden. But if I am going to do that, I am going to need the support of all sides. Yes, there is blame to go around on many sides. But I need their support to get rid of all the dietary restrictions illegally placed upon our garden by the last onion-master-in-chief. That illegitimate onion-master was not even raised in this garden. He seems to think that everyone has a right to clean, pesticide-free soil to plant their roots in. But all garden vegetables are not created equal. Tomatoes are poisonous. They all have radical religious beliefs that makes them hate our onion-ness. They are therefore terrorists, believe me. They are trying to sneak across the southern border of the garden and take over the onion-growing space that good, conservative, right-thinking onions have and need more of. They are trying to spread their poison in our garden. They want to replace our onion laws with their own stinky Tomatillo Law. And corn. The Corn Party tries to defeat every item on the onion agenda. When we pass a law that all corn voters need to be stripped of their kernels before they can be allowed to vote, they selfishly vote against that law. Government in this onion garden cannot work if they continue to do that. And we need a wall to keep illegal jalapenos from crossing the garden’s southern border. They are not the best vegetables, I guarantee you. They are onion-eaters and foul mixed vegetables. And promises were made to spring onions that were brought into this garden as seeds and now are crying that they deserve not to be uprooted and thrown into distant gardens where they don’t even speak the proper vegetable languages to get by. I know this garden loves those onions. I love those onions too. I want to eat them too. They are very nutritious. But their protections are now gone. I leave it up to the Corn and Onions of Congress to build that wall, and if they do, I will let the spring onions stay.
And now you can heap praises on me for the state of our economy. Yes, I take credit for all the fertilizer I have created by speaking tons of bull manure every single day. The quality of my manure is fabulous… simply fabulous, believe me. It is the finest manure any garden has ever received. And I, Donald J. Onioneater, am the finest onion-master you have ever seen. No onion-master before me has done as well, except maybe for Abraham Limabean. He was pretty great. Although I don’t really know why. Maybe I should have said Andrew Jackfruit instead. So the state of the onion is stinky. And let’s all work together now to MAKE THE GARDEN GREAT AGAIN!
Of course, there is the opposite problem too. Some writers are not hard to understand at all. They only use simple sentences. They only use ideas that lots of other people have used before. You don’t have to think about what they write. You only need to react. They are the reasons that words like “trite”, “hackneyed”, “boring”, and “cliche” exist in English. But simple, boring writing isn’t written by stupid people. Hemingway is like that. Pared down to the basics. No frills. Yet able to yield complex thoughts, insights, and relationships.
Catch a Falling Star 
Body Image Advice for Truly Ugly People
Yes, I, of all people, should probably not be trying to give advice to ugly people. I have some wisdom about ugliness to share, but only by participation in the world as a member of that class of people that ordinary folk would really, really, extremely importantly not want to see naked. I am not Boris Karloff’s Mummy unwrapped, but I am in no way pretty under my clothes.
So why would anybody with six incurable diseases, one of which is a skin disease that involves reddish pink bleedy spots, ever contemplate becoming a nudist?
Well, horrible as I am, I have had a lifelong yearning for a life lived naked. I recently found an online quiz thing that asked the question, “Should you become a nudist?” Here is the result it gave me;
So, apparently, I have nudist tendencies. I have been concealing a long-standing desire to throw off all my clothes and walk around naked all the time. And I have been doing it all my life. But I am not some mentally ill pervert, or even an exhibitionist. I just have an innate feeling, as I suspect most people do, that I was meant to live a more natural life wearing only the things that God clothed me with. When I think of myself naked, I try to think of myself more like the boy I have drawn here to picture the feelings I have about nudity;
There is a certain innocence and rightness involved in being nude. I don’t generally push it in people’s faces. I don’t plaster a bunch of naked pictures of myself on the internet. Some nudists do. I see a lot of naked people on Twitter now that I have written articles for nudist blogs and joined a couple of nudist websites. But they are not Playboy magazine nudes. They are more often than not the slightly overweight, blobby sort of people that look like oddly bulbous stacks of uncooked pancake dough. They are the kind of unfettered and unashamed personal body images that go a long way toward making me feel better about my fat old blobby-spotty self. If people like that can be proud of their naked form, then my bugged-out eyes help convince my stupid head that I could do it too.
I have been to a nudist park precisely one time. As chronicled in this blog last July, I visited the Bluebonnet Nudist Park in Alvord, Texas. I have been naked in the presence of other naked people. And it really is a liberating experience. Being seen naked by naked girls is not nearly as soul-crushingly embarrassing as I once believed. Especially since being a nudist is in no way about sex. In fact, lewd behavior of any kind gets you kicked out of a nudist park faster than if you were doing the same thing at the Ballpark at Arlington for a Texas Rangers baseball game. (Most of those lewd dudes, admittedly, were fueled more by alcohol than hormones.) Those people at the nudist park did not look at me, scream in horror, and run away. They looked me in the eye, smiled, and talked to me as if I were the same as they are.
So my advice to sincerely ugly people, based on my own experiences as a bug-ugly human being is… become a nudist. Learn to accept your whole ugly, horrible self as an ordinary human being with no artificial veneer. Do not cover up who you actually are. Then, you may begin to see that what you always thought of as ugliness and horribleness is really beauty and grace and healthy human-ness.
Leave a comment
Filed under commentary, empathy, goofy thoughts, healing, humor, mental health, nudes, Paffooney, strange and wonderful ideas about life
Tagged as Bluebonnet nudist park, body image, humor, nudists