I am going to spend this entire blog comparing Jackie Chan to a Pile of Leaves.

First Up, Jackie Chan. Born April 7 1954 in Hong Kong.

Pile of Leaves: Born once every year under every Deciduous tree in existence….in the world.

Jackie Chan: Born Chan Kong-Sang

Pile of Leaves: Born….Pile of Leaves, slight variations across every world language, but core name remains intact. Continue reading “Jackie Chan Versus Pile of Leaves” →

So I have suddenly realized that i start several blogs with the word So.  These things are just sort of my stream of consciousness leaking out onto the screen.  I think it, my fingers punch it, you read it, you speak it, your children sow it into their children, and those children grow up to be world leaders, astrophysicists, Jugglers, and Candy Canes.  Yes, my literary grandchildren will grow up to be Candy Canes.  That is how potent this writing is.  So live it.  Then tell everyone how much of a pretentious poppycock I am. Continue reading “Butter Cereal, Palm Punch Combo” →

My finger is cold.  Not all of them mind you, just one of them.  My right index finger.  I have no idea WHY just that finger, but it sort of happens that way.  Maybe it has something to do with a weird circulation wiring mishap.  Maybe it is because I have the forefinger designed to be a perfect squirrel forehead compress.  In either case, I can’t feel my H,Y,G,U,N,M, and B keys. Continue reading “Staring Down Your Grandma” →