Who could ever have predicted it would have come to this?
"Not I," said the little pig.
"Not I," said the brown dog.
"Not I," said the blogger, wondering if anyone else remembers Captain Kangaroo reading The Little Red Hen.
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It's actually, factually true...this is the 600th piece of nonsense posted under the title Almost the Truth.
Having begun on Christmas Eve of 2007, that means I've averaged 1.008403361344538 posts per week for almost 11.5 years. (And yes, I'm pretty sure that 99.44% of you did not bother to actually read that statistic. I know I wouldn't have.)
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Just in case you're wondering, as of this week, the most-read post in all that time has been "Pictures Inappropriate for History Books." (I think we all know what that implies about the casual World Wide Wackfest surfer.)
The subject I've written about the most is Pop Culture, with 221 posts bearing that tag. But holy shamoley, that's a pretty wide-reaching, generic "subject", am I right? Of far more personal importance to me are the 13 posts declaring that Fred Basset must die. Seriously...why the farnsworth hasn't that hashtag taken over the world?
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Many thanks to the few, the proud, the masochists who have come along on this journey. I hope you've been given some moments of mirth along the way. That really is what it's all for. If laughter is the best medicine, Almost the Truth is dedicated to healing the world...one grin at a time.
Thanks for Liking, Following, and Sharing the joy.
I had to do a little research on the backstory on the 488th greatest song of all time (according to Rolling Stone), "Rhiannon (Will You Ever Win)". Not that I wasn't familiar with the song, but I had never heard the legend that Stevie Nicks based it on.
The brain trust at Wikipedia says:
Rhiannon is a major figure in the Mabinogi, the medieval Welsh story collection. She appears mainly in the First Branch of the Mabinogi, and again in the Third Branch. She is a strong minded Otherworld woman, who chooses Pwyll, prince of Dyfed, as her consort, in preference to another man to whom she has already been betrothed.
Sure that's pretty confusing and weird, but have you ever looked at the song lyric?!!?
Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night and
Wouldn't you love to love her?
(No, I would love to have her stop calling me all night long. I'm trying to get some sleep!)
Takes to the sky like a bird in flight and
Who will be her lover?
(Apparently, it needs to be somebody else who can fly.)
All your life you've never seen
A woman taken by the wind
(True that...except for Dorothy Gale from Kansas.)
Would you stay if she promised you heaven?
(Stay? Stay where? Rhiannon is off flying around and I'm expected to just hang around where I'm at?)
Will you ever win?
(Doubt it.)
She is like a cat in the dark and then
She is the darkness
(Look! She's a bird! She's a cat! She's darkness! Kinda hard to nail down this free-spirited Otherworld woman.)
She rules her life like a fine skylark
(Aaaaaand now she's a passenger car by Buick. Enough already!)
It was dark and a little windy.
I was slightly disoriented.
It seemed like I was in a familiar place, but everything was just a little off.
I was looking around, my anxiety level rising, trying to plant my eyes on something familiar and comforting, but failing miserably.
A small bunny - or was it a squirrel? - creeped out from under some shrubbery and looked at me.
My first reaction was "oh, cute!" but then its body tensed, claws extending from its front paws, and its eyes turned a flaming red just before it lunged at me.
Well...what would you do in a moment like that?
Would you instinctively kick at the demon rodent in an attempt to spare yourself some kind of rabid attack? I know I did.
And that's when I woke up.
And that's also how Beloved got the bruise on her ankle.
And that's also why I spent half the night last night in the guest bedroom.
I'm befuddled.
I'm gobsmacked.
I'm bewitched, bothered, and bewildered.
There's a new product on the shelves at FastStop. Right next to the cans of chewing tobacco, there is now a nifty little thing called Zyn.
It looks like the tins of Grizzly or Copenhagen pouches used by folks who like to chew but don't like getting tobacco between their teeth, but instead of containing tobacco, it just contains nicotine, which the can proudly proclaims is an addictive chemical.
As far as I know (which is, admittedly, not very far), they aren't part of a "kick the habit" plan like nicotine gum. They're just part of a continuing initiative to make money from the addictions of others...but now it doesn't involve dark alleys or Bolivian cartels.
My head is spinning about how crazy this is.
"Honey, on your way home, would you stop and get me some addictive chemical pouches?"
"All have Zynned and fallen short of the glory of God."
Coming in at 489 on Rolling Stone's list of the 500 greatest songs of all time, Gloria Gaynor permanently secured a place in pop music history with her recording of "I Will Survive".
But let's not get carried away with our adulation, okay? I mean seriously.
It is still just a disco song.
Sure, it's been remixed and re-recorded and turned into an anthem for everything from female empowerment to France's soccer team.
But it's still just a disco song.
It was named the second greatest disco song of all time, but that's kind of like being awarded a trophy for most malodorous fungus.
And you can tell Gloria I said so! (It won't bother her. She'll live.)
