Author: Darvin

Howdy online neighbors! Glad you decided to come by to see what’s typing around here. Hope you are having the kind of day that you can celebrate with a deluxe discount pizza and a cold soda. Today I thought I’d down-blog it a little, and post up a fun story. Every now and then I break out the balloons and confetti and let the clown in me hog the keyboard. Okay, let’s get blogging!     

“All right!  Listen up you guys!  We got fifteen seconds left on the clock.  Its fourth quarter, and we got forty-six more yards to go, to get to the end-zone.  The coach says it’s up to us to come up with a play that gets us there!” Joe Radzinsky hollers this announcement to all his teammates standing around him in the huddle. Taking a quick look around, Joe could see that everybody was as tired as a mom keeping up with a hyper active two year old.

On the outside of his teammates, Joe was looking at grass stains and dirt smudges. But he knew that if he were to look on the inside of his teammates, there would still be a lot of determination left to do their best . “Are you sure you heard the coach right Joe? He’s leaving the call up to us? Joe, you’re the quarterback. Maybe you outta go over and ask him if he’s sure.”  Joe looked sharply over at his star wide receiver. “Shut up Blicks!  I know coach.  I’m sure he knows what he’s doing!  And besides…  We don’t have any time left to send somebody to ask him if we heard him right or not.  Our last time-out is just about over.  So… anybody got any ideas?”

     “Radzinsky, you’re our quarterback.  You better call the play,” Melvin Brown suggests. Melvin Brown was the biggest tight end in the whole school district, and Joe’s best friend. He had big confidence in Joe. But still, he needed to be sure.

Joe didn’t even think about what to say before he said, “No way, Melvin.  If the coach wanted me to call this one, he wouldn’t have said for us to come up with something.  So you guys better give me some feedback quick, or we’re going to be standing around out here looking stupid when they call a delay of game penalty on us.” 

    The voice of a team member speaks out in the huddle. “Joe. I think I got something.”  “Okay Owling.  Let’s have it.  What’s on your mind dude?”  “I know this is crazy Joe, but how about X-98 Swing Fumble?”  Joe’s eyes bug out with shock, while the rest of the team smirkes and chuckles. Joe looked at Peter Owling as though he were thinking about severely tackling him.

“X-98 Swing…  Man Owling, are you dehydrated?!  X-98 was a joke play I made up in practice.  Remember?  But never mind.  X-98 huh?  Hmmm. Might be crazy enough to work, if we use it.  If we do, Owling, you might wind up being called the smartest offensive center anybody has ever heard of, or become famous for being the dumbest thing anybody has ever seen wearing a football uniform.  But how about x-98 guys? Whadda you think?” 

Everybody in the huddle, but Joe and Owling, stood still like live tackling dummies. But each quickly nodded their approval. The vote was in. The next play they ran would be the most shocking play of the season.  Joe smiled at the idea, and everyone else in the huddle grinned a little too.  “Alright then guys.  X-98 Swing Fumble it is.  On two, on two!  BREAK!” But before Joe goes to line up for the play, he trots over to the referee for a quick word, and then hurries back to get into formation.

The boys quickly arrange themselves into their positions at the line of scrimmage. The crowd murmurs with anticipation, and then their murmurings turn into mob noises.

They had every reason to be upset. Because the Road Hogs’ center was lining up behind their quarterback in the shot gun position, and the quarterback was lining up at the center’s position!!!

As the signals were being called, there wasn’t a Road Hog fan in the stadium who wasn’t holding their breath, or not already aiming a paper cup to throw at the field, in the event that whatever crazy thing the Road Hogs were about to do didn’t go all that well.

     The booth announcer comments, “…Never in all my years as a sports commentator have I ever witnessed this kind of gridiron chicanery, or offensive foolishness before.  Oddly enough the head coach of the Road Hogs seems to be okay with this fiasco formation his offense has assembled themselves into. But who knows?”

     “Maybe the pressure of his first national championship has scrambled his ability to make a sensible play call.  If I were him, I would be throwing a customer fit right about now.  And I would like to make it clear. We haven’t received any word that what the Road Hogs are doing is not regulation. So far not a single field judge or the referee has offered any objections. So…” 

    “But take it from me, the Road Hogs better have made plans for making a quick getaway from the stadium when this game is over!  Because the way the Road Hog fans are screaming now, the Road Hogs are going to need the fastest road-jet to get them to safety!  But hey! Hold tight to your beer and Coney dog, cause here we go!” 

     “Radzinsky just hiked the ball to his center.  Yes, his center folks!  Number 62, Peter Owling.  Owling is fading back in the true lumbering style of a man that weighs all of 275 pounds with love handles!  

     And oh my geriatric support hose!  I don’t believe it!!!!  Owling just fell to the ground!!!  On purpose!!!  And nobody’s even touched one stitch of his pricey team uniform!!!  Wait!  Am I seeing this right???!!!   Somebody heat up the defibrillation paddles for me!  I can’t possibly be seeing this.”  

     “Peter Owling just let the ball roll away from him??!!!  If I’m lying I’m a rehab recall.  He just…!!!  Forgive me folks.  I almost said something that you can’t say on network television.  But Owling may have just fumbled away the only chance his team had of winning this football championship!”  

     “Hey Mike, are we watching a blooper here, or what?!!! Don’t answer that Mike. I wasn’t being serious.”

    “But folks, I hate to tell you this, it looks like the Road Hogs illustrious season is a heart beat away from utter doom and disgrace.  The Sea Sharks’ linemen, like the sea animals they are named after, are converging on the abandoned $200 football as if it were chum in the water.  Said piece of football equipment just happens to be resting only a foot and a half away from where Owling is seated on the ground. Between Owling and a doped up dental patient; you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

“Trust me when I say a Sea Shark recovery is about to happen!” 

     “As for the rest of the Sea Sharks defense, they are contentedly standing around licking their chops with Championship glory on their minds.  And why not?  This fumble recovery will absolutely clinch a very big over-stuffed paycheck for them, along with a diamond/gold ring that would blind a jeweler wearing extra dark sunglasses.”

     “Mike, I can’t watch!  Oh who am I kidding?!!!  But waitaminute!  Here’s a surprise!  Owling is snatching up the ball again, and is flipping a side arm lateral to…?   Mama Mia!  It’s Kevontay Blicks, the Road Hogs prime wide receiver!  Maybe I’m not seeing this play the right way.  Yeah, right.”

“Kevontay Blicks has the ball, and he isn’t wasting any time setting himself to throw a pass.  He’s launching a laser beam spiral towards the Sea Sharks’ end-zone!” 

     “It’s like watching a brown and white guided blur spiraling through the stadium’s airspace, on it’s way to a downfield target! -Like that lone figure waiting in the Sharks’ end-zone!  Who is that Mike?!!” 

     “Never mind Mike!  I’d know that big man anywhere! He’s wearing a Road Hog jersey! He’s their big tight end, Melvin Brown! And he’s making the catch! Heyyy! TOUCHDOWNNNNN Road Hogs!!!” 

     “Hot spinach dip!  It’s Black Friday pandemonium around here!  The crowd is cheering like they were standing under a shower of hundred dollar bills!!!!  I’ll be a pigeon’s after-diner target!  The Road Hogs Win!!!”

Talk about your fantasy football, huh?

Thanks for reading the writing! And may God bless you with the invisible things that keep you well and prospering.

Meanwhile, back at the rancho, the blogger stands on his front porch and kindly says… Howdy y’all! Sho am happy to see, I mean, imagine you all came by to read for a spell.

I hope that you all are well, or getting there. Today, I’m going to type up a little food for thought snack. I can imagine you imagining me sitting here with a barbeque apron on, sweating over a hot keyboard, with a cold drink sitting on my desk. Your imagination would be correct, but the reality is… I don’t own a barbeque apron, I haven’t poured myself that cold drink yet, and… You probably get the picture. Besides, it’s time to blog!

Can you imagine, that in the beginning, a place as big as planet Earth having a population of only two? I’ve heard somebody say that there is a first time for everything. So picture the first two human beings showing up on Earth. One being a man and one being a woman.

Let’s call the man Adam, and the woman Eve. I just pulled those two names out of a book called Genesis. Now folks, give me some elbow room please. I’m about to get a little technical here.

Of course, the first two human beings couldn’t have been infants or they wouldn’t have survived, right? And they wouldn’t have had biological parents, right? Right??? Okay. Just checking.

Now the thing I’m coming to is this… They would need certain things from day one. They would need to be able to take care of themselves. That’s a big one. Which would mean that they would have to be able to think like adults, right? Did somebody just say something? I got this really great ability for imagining people saying something I imagine they might say. Wow. When I go off subject, I land on a whole other website! Okay, back to what the first two members of the human race would have needed to make it in the new world.

To help them communicate with each other, they would need a complete language to work with. But now, okay, if they had a language, that would mean they would need to have advanced intelligence. No? Yes? Maybe? But if they had advanced intelligence, they would need something to keep their minds busy. Like a purpose and challenges in life to work on everyday. So that they could keep their intelligence working as smooth as a computer getting frequent updates. Otherwise their minds would become like a muscle that rarely gets used. But most of all, what they would need is a teacher and a guide.

Being the first man and woman to ever live on Earth, they would need to be taught what to do and not to do, and what was safe and what is not safe. And also mental things they would need to know. Things like what is good social behavior and what is bad social behavior. These two things can’t be learned without some kind of a teacher being involved. So what I’m saying is that if they taught themselves, it would be like a five year old going off to college, trying to learn about everything they needed to know about the world in a very short time, without, books, computers, or anything teacher related.

Simple or complex things like what food is okay to eat, how to count time, and ultimately what love really is, all requires a teacher’s touch. Now for guidance… In a person’s life it is important for them to know what is the best way to go, and the best way to get through times of trouble. Like the day Adam and Eve found out the hard way what evil was. -And the high cost to a human being for doing evil.

Believe it or what, God knows what is best for us human beings. He knows all about creating one, how to completely take care of one, and all the other bahdda boom bahdda bing.

God is a teacher and a guide that teaches and guides better than any human being ever could. He’s lived longer and has an unlimited number of PhD’s in the knowledge of everything known, unknown, technical or otherwise. It takes real Omni intelligence and Omni power to create a living human being out of basic organic material. Hey, I almost forgot. Check this out. Intelligence comes from intelligence, and not by accident. And this is the truth as I know it folks.

The subject of Adam and Eve kind of lit up in my mind today, like the first rays of sunlight peaking over a tall mountain range. Just had to share it with you.

I enthusiastically thank you for visiting today. Until the next blog day, may God light the way for you that leads you to heaven and everything pre-heaven.

    

Welcome back! I hope that your smiles per day have doubled this week. My fingers are loose and my mind is charged with a new story blog. Like NASA used to say, everything is A-OK. We are a go for blogging.

“Hey C-Chain, who’s the dude stepping up by the corner store?”  “I don’t know Larry D.  But c’mon man, we bout to go find out.”

C-Chain and Larry D start making their way down the old worn down city sidewalk. The corner store is only thirty feet away. Their eyes are locked on the stranger, as their feet quick-walk them over to meet him.

C-Chain and Larry D joined the local street gang a year ago, when they were both fifteen. Neither of them showed any fear as they approached the corner store. Ever since the day they started carrying guns pushed down into the waistband of their baggy, sharply creased jeans, their fear had miraculously shrunken down to the size of a nine millimeter weapon.

Just after they pass the neighborhood landmark barber shop, they slow down to take a more detailed look at the stranger who is now only four paces in front of them.

The man at the corner store had noticed the two boys coming his way as soon as he got out of his pickup, and stepped up onto the sidewalk. He had no trouble at all noticing that they were wearing gang style white baseball caps, white tank top T-shirts, and blinding white tennis shoes.

  “Hey yo man.  What you think you doin here?  Ain’t you a little too school teacher-looking to be up in this hood homey?” C Chain asked the man.  The man looked like a young adult office professional, wearing blue slacks, a white short-sleeved dress shirt, black slip-in shoes, holding a thick book in one hand.

The man smiled at the boys as though they were his nephews. “Well yes, but you see…”  “Holdup school teacher.  But?  Larry K.  Did this man just but me?”  “Yeah C-Chain.  The man just butted you.” Larry D looked the man up and down and frowned a deep frown. “I guess he don’t know how to answer a straight up question without using his but. I think he might need some help with answerin your question dawg.”  C-Chain took a threatening step towards the man, and copied Larry D’s frown. “I think you right, D. Maybe the school teacher need him some help answering my question.”

     “Hey wait.  I’m not looking for any kind of trouble.  I’m a writer for a Christian website.  You can check out the website on your phone if you don’t believe me.  It’s called Writeteller.com.” 

C-Chain almost reached for his phone to check, but stopped, thinking now I know I must be crazy. On the other hand, Larry K was rolling his eyes and saying, “Look man! Do we look like we read off Christian websites???” The stranger didn’t say a word.  But Larry D did. “Hey man.  Ain’t you got nothing to say?” After a few more seconds of silence, Larry D shrugs his shoulders. “C, it looks like our boy done forgot what your question was. I guess I’ll have to help him remember.” Larry D takes a step towards the man to help him to remember.

But C-Chain’s curiosity was revved up. Why would a man dress up like some kind of school teacher come messing around here for? He held up a hand to stop Larry D. “Holdup D. Let’s check this dude out and see if the brother is who he says he is.  If he ain’t, then you can tune him up so he can walk around on his elbows.” 

Larry D liked the idea. He nodded that he was okay with C-Chain’s plan, and reached for his cell phone. As quick as he could, he brought up the writeteller.com website. Eight seconds later he asked, “What’s your name homeboy?” “Darvelle Anderson,” the man replied.  “Yeah C. The man is who he says he is. His picture and name are on the website.”  C-Chain shakes his head sadly and looks over at Larry D. “Ain’t this a hot mess? Bro Darvelle be telling the truth.” “Yeah C. But we still need to know why a Christian writer would be stupid enough to be up in our hood at twelve something in the afternoon.” Both boys folded their arms and fixed their faces to show that they were about to run out of patience. 

     Darvelle never stopped smiling for a second. Without any interruption, this time, he answered right away. “I know you probably won’t believe me, but I’m here to tell people about how evil gets into people. Influencing them to believe that being tough, cruel, mean, and killer, makes them a good kind of bad.” While Larry D and C-Chain made something-smells-bad-faces, they worked on trying to figure out what in the world Darvelle was talking about. Then they heard him say, “So, is it okay for me to ask you guys what your names are?”  

     That question got their attention and suspicion. “Why you want to know that?” Larry D asked.  All of a sudden Darvelle looked to them more like a cop than a school teacher. But Darvelle quickly put their minds at rest. “I want to know what your names are so that I can pray for you every day, and so that I can know what to call you.” Larry D and C-Chain looked at each other with amazement for the count of three heartbeats, and then started laughing like they had just breathed in a whole lot of laughing gas. “Man, Dar-velle, you is the craziest brother I ever heard of. But you is as funny as a rich comedian!” C Chain was just barely able to say all the words. Darvelle laughed with the boys, and thanked God they thought he was so funny.

People walking down the other side of the street stopped to stare at the laughing group, for a few clock ticks, and moved on. As the fun of laughing began to wear off the boys answered. “Okay man, I’m Larry D.“ “And I’m C-Chain. But is you serious man? …About praying for us everyday?” Darvelle nodded. “As serious as I am about showing up for a free barbeque dinner.” That got the boys to laughing a little more. So while they were still in a good mood, Darvelle asked, “Is it okay I tell you guys about what’s in one of my stories.”  C-Chain and Larry D couldn’t see why not. “Yeah Big D. Just as long as you don’t get too preachy. Know what I mean?” “That’s cool with me Larry D.”

“Okay, let’s start with this.  A lot of people think being bad is a good thing.”  The boys looked like they didn’t know what to do with this kind of information.  So Darvelle explained. “In this world, in order to survive or get what they want, people do bad things so they can get what they think are good things.” “Like what kind of good things?” Larry D asks suspiciously. “Like money, respect, happiness, power over people, or a scary reputation.”  

     “Man. That sounds like how a gang is.” C-Chain automatically put on his meanest frown. “Shut your noise up Larry K!” He points to Darvelle. “Man, you starting not to be so funny now. Cause you startin to sound like a preacher. And I don’t like preachers. But yo homey. I’m going to give you one more chance to tell me somethin worth my time. Or I’m gonna show you how we preach around here.”

Darvelle still hadn’t lost his smile. He pauses the space of two breaths, breaths out and starts again. “Okay, think about this. If I were to give you a gun, would that be a good thing or a bad thing C-Chain?” C-Chain wrinkles his forehead thinking what to answer. But it didn’t take him two seconds to say, “I got a gun.” “So you’re saying that if I gave you a loaded gun you wouldn’t take it?” “Okay. Yeah, I would take it. And that would be a good thing.” Darvelle switches his book to his other hand and says, “What if the gun I give you was used in a murder? Is that good or bad?”

C-Chain wanted to stop talking and start swinging, but he didn’t want to look like he was scared to answer the question. So he said, “Bad.”

Darvelle nodded to C-Chain’s answer. “Why bad?” “Man, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because if I get caught with the gun I could go to jail.” C-Chain almost hollered out every word.

      Seeing that C-Chain was about to lose his self control, Darvelle asked him one last question. “The gun you have in your pants, is it a good thing or a bad thing?” C-Chain was surprised that this school teacher looking man had noticed his gun. It was mostly down the front of his pants, and the rest was hidden under his tank-top.  Even so, he wasn’t too confident on how to answer the question.

If C-Chain answered good, he figured Darvelle might ask him what he used his gun for. And if he said bad, he figured Darvelle would probably ask him why he carried a bad thing under his clothes. So he chose to answer a different way. He decided to argue. “Man, all this stuff you’re saying is so stupid. Being on these streets without a gun is bad. But if you run into some hard dude with a gun, and you have a gun, that’s good, you feel me?”

     “Darvelle scratched his head and softened his voice to ask, “What if you shoot somebody that doesn’t have a gun? Is that good or bad?” It was Larry D who spoke up this time. “Holdup C-Chain. Look bruh Darvelle, what was that you said again, about how evil gets into people? That part about how when people believe that being tough, mean, cruel, and killer, it will make them a good kind of bad.” C-Chain was ticked at Larry D for cutting him off, but was glad for the chance to regroup before he answered Darvelle’s last question.

Darvelle held up the book he was holding and pointed to it. “Right quick, it says on one of these pages, in the part where Isaiah 5:20 is. Wait a minute guys. Don’t worry, I won’t open the book unless you ask me to. But it says on the page I mentioned, that people who say that an evil thing is good and a good thing is evil, or that bad is good and good is bad, they wind up in very big trouble.” Darvelle looked at C-Chain, and asked, “And do you know why?” Neither boy spoke. They didn’t know for sure what to answer, and didn’t want to feel silly guessing the wrong answer. So they waited until Darvelle got ready to give them the answer. They only had to wait three seconds.

“Okay, let me give you the answer this way. I’ll give you an example. Say somebody tells you that if you murder a person for a good reason it’s a good thing. You believe it, go and murder somebody, and then get arrested. Look at the trouble you got in because you believed that there is such a thing as a good reason for murdering somebody. All because you chose to believe that doing something bad was something good.

The boys were stunned, and stood as still as a mountain. This example sounded real familiar to them. “Hey guys, just let me give you two more examples, okay. The boys nodded yes. “Good. Now what if somebody tells you that if you beat up somebody, for a good reason, it’s not a bad thing. The boys could swear that this man must have been spying on them. But before they said or did anything, they wanted to hear the last example first. They could hardly wait to hear what that would be.

Darvelle had stopped smiling at the first example. He was all focused on God and the boys now. He cradled his book under his arm and began telling his last example. “In this book, under my arm, is some information about how the best Angel God had ever made believed that he was as good as God. He thought that that was a very good thing. He convinced other angels that he would be a much better boss, and started his own gang in heaven. Then when he thought that he was strong enough take God out, he started a turf war with God, so that he could take over heaven.”

The boys mouths were hanging open by this time. Was this man telling the truth, they really didn’t know. But they couldn’t shake the feeling that he was.

Larry D came back to life, and spoke up. “Can you show me in your bible where this angel war went down?” “Naw D. Let’s go man. We could be at my girl’s house drinkin us some Big Ounces, eatin up some burgers, and chillin,” C-Chain argued. “Naw C-Chain.  I want to hear what else this bruthuh has to say. I’m gonna stay and check this dude out.  You can go if you want to.”  C-Chain really didn’t want to go either, but he was afraid of not leaving. Because he knew that, if he stayed, he was going to think harder and harder about everything Darvelle was saying. And maybe even start agreeing with him. And he just couldn’t let that happen. Or could he? In the end, C-Chain shrugged his shoulders. “Okay D-man.  I’ll hang around another minute with you.  But that’s it.” 

     “That’s great.  I’ll make the rest of this real quick. Murdering and stealing is bad because God says it is. He ought to know. He’s seen all the bad and evil things anyone has ever done. Anybody that tells you that a bad thing is a good thing, ask them where they got their information from. And then ask them what they think is good about those things. Then you can decide who’s right. And maybe make a decision about becoming a Jesus gang member.”

Big subject. Good and bad, evil and good. Everyday we get to choose which is good.

Thanks for giving today’s blog a read. And I hope that God show’s you some of His amazing grace.

    

Hi there! If you are well, I am three times happy. Got an extra intense blog for ya today. Rated see. So lean back and enjoy the read.

From the invisible headquarters of H.B.I.D. (Human Bad Ideas Division), the Director briefs two of his prime operatives. Himself nor his operatives have a physical body. They all are invisible non physical agents sworn to cause problems within the human race.

The Director and the two agents with him are invisible to each other, but everyone in the room can sense exactly where everyone else is in the room.

The director of H.B.I.D. grins while speaking to the two agents.

“Agent Secret and Agent Affair, I’ve known both you guys for a jillion years now. You’re two of my very best agents,” the Director says, his grin stretching into a smile. “I want you two to handle a very important assignment for me, if you choose to accept it.”

“You know us Director.  We’re always up for any job you assign to us,” agent Secret says confidently. “Glad to hear that agent Secret. I knew I could count on you and agent Affair to get a job done for me. So here’s the deal.  I need you two to come up with a perfect plan for having an extra-marital affair, so that there’s zero risk of a person ever getting caught.  Can you guys handle that?”

     “No problem boss.  Affair and I will get the job done for you.”  The Director’ thought as much. “Glad to hear it gentlemen.  Well, I’ll just leave you to your task. But let me know the minute you have a plan ready to go. I’ll call a quick briefing session for all of our agents, and we’ll make Operation Perfect Affair one of the most successful marriage destroying plans of all time.”  “You got it Director,” both agents say together. “Good. You agents are dismissed.”

    On the way to the planning center, Affair leads off a conversation. “Secret, I don’t know. Do you think we can really pull this thing off?”  If Secret’s face were visible, it would be showing an annoyed expression. “Affair, you know me.  Have I ever not pulled off an assignment?”  “Yeah, sorry Secret.  I guess I forgot I was talking to H.B.I.D’s master of the marital break up. So let’s get down to business.  What ideas do you have in mind for putting together Project Perfect Affair?” Secret instantly replies.

“Okay, let’s take a look at the usual problems that an affair-artist runs into, whenever they decide to become a marital double agent.  For example. Like having to account for where they’ve been, or accounting for the time they spend away from home. This means we gotta come up with a plan so flawless, a spouse trying to have an affair won’t get caught either by accident, or by a miscalculation.”

    Affair’s invisible expression is showing his doubt. “I don’t know Secret. That’s probably going to be an almost impossible problem to get around. A high percentage of affair participants get tripped up by having flaws in their cover story. Flaws that can be easily picked apart when a spouse decides to verify a double agent’s false facts.” 

Secret invisibly nods. “Yeah, I know.  You got any suggestions Affair?” Affair instantly answers. “Well, okay.  How about this?  Say that a guy wants to meet up with his under cover other, someplace at about nineteen hundred hours.”  “Never mind the military time,” Secret instructs.  “No problem.  Seven pm.  Now all the affair double agent has to do is tell their spouse that they’re going someplace where there’s lots of people around who wouldn’t know them from any other stranger in a crowd.”  “So what are you saying specifically? Like a basketball game, or a baseball game?” Secret asks suspiciously.  “And what if the spouse wants to know who their marriage partner is going to the ballgame with?”

     Affair makes a snorting noise. “Are you kidding me? That’s easy.  They could say something like they were going with a group of new hires from work.  That way there would be no phone calls to a known co-worker to blow up their cover.”  “Not bad Affair.  Not bad. But here’s where your idea goes up in smoke,” Secret points out. “What if a spouse calls their double agent spouse while they’re supposed to be at the game, and the double agent decides not to answer? …Or even better. They answer without thinking, forgetting about the fact that there’s no crowd noises in the background.” 

     “Good point Secret.  …Didn’t think of those possibilities. Sigh.  I guess we’re going to have to have a few thousand back up plans to handle all of the what if situations, huh? So what do you say we come back to these particular problems a little bit later?”  “Fine with me Affair.  What do you say we tackle something a little easier?”  “Like what, Secret?”  “Like cell phone management.”  “Good idea,” Affair agrees.  “You better know it is.  Because a boat load of affair enthusiasts get caught because of bad cell phone management. Things like un-deleted texts, undeleted phone numbers, and undeleted emails.”  “You said it Secret.  So what you thinking?”

     “I’m thinking that an affair operative could use a second cell phone.  Not one hooked up to a major wireless company of course. But the kind of cell phone you can pay your service bill in cash,” Secret explains. “Hey yeah!  That sounds like a real winner Secret. But uh…  I just thought of something .”  “Like what Affair?”  “Like, what would happen if a double agent got their phones mixed up.  Or accidently leaves their burner phone at home.  Or…”  Secret immediately saw the problem and cut his partner off. “Yeah yeah.  I see what you’re getting at.  He or she would almost have to write down a wagon load of reminders, to make sure that they didn’t make any phone mistakes. All it would take is just one mistake of not making sure they turned off their burner phone, or forgetting to put it on vibrate, or it ringing when they thought they had turned it off.”  Affair nods his invisible head. “Exactly.  And I just thought of another thing too, Secret.”  “What’s that Affair?”  “The phone charger.” “The phone charger? What’s the phone charger got to do with anything Affair?” 

     “Think about it a minute Secret. What would happen if our affair operative forgot and left their undercover phone charger plugged up at home where it could be discovered? What would happen?”  Secret knows and agrees. “Yeah.  I’m following you on that.  The unsuspecting spouse might find it and get suspicious as to why a phone charger was sitting in an out-of-the-way location.  Maybe we better come back to the cell phone thing a little later too.  You think?”  “That’s what I’m thinking too, Secret.”

Secret let’s his frustration show. “Alright, then what else can we get started working on?”  Affair answers without hesitation. “Lies maybe?” Secret invisibly dances around with excitement. “That’s right Affair! That should have been first on our list. You can’t have an affair without being a really fast liar!”  Affair nods invisibly. “I thought you would say that, Secret.  So let’s just take a look at how lies can be improved to where they are just as solid as the truth.”

     For a second, Secret was angry that his face was invisible. He wished that Affair could just take one look at it, so that it would tell his partner what he was thinking. But he settled for getting his point across with words. “Whoa Affair. A lie as solid as the truth? Think about that for a second. Most affair participants get into trouble because they don’t keep an exact record of what lie they told to cover up their affair activities. …Or keep up with every detail of every lie they had to tell after that, to help cover up the first one.”  Affair couldn’t show it, so he said it. “No. I disagree Secret. ” 

     “I think that a lie can almost be as solid as the truth if you get other people to help make your lie as true as possible. …Meaning, getting people to lie for you, about where you’ve been, or who you’ve been spending time with.” Affair said all this very firmly. “You know, Affair…  You’re right!  I never thought of that.  Let me just memorize that.  We can definitely use this information to make project Perfect Affair a thousand percent more successful.”  “But wait a minute Affair.  I just thought of a few risk connected with people lying on behalf of a marital double agent.”  “Oh?” Affair inquired.

     “Yeah.  Like will they keep a double agent’s secret secret no matter what, or be willing to lie and continue to lie for that double agent almost indefinitely? And we also have to take into account that a marriage double agent’s lie network might all fall apart the very second his buddies can’t keep straight what lies they have told on behalf of their double agent friend.”  Secret let the conversation go to silence. But it wasn’t three seconds before Affair had something to say.

“I see what you’re saying Secret.  Aaaaand, I see other problems we’re going to have making Project Perfect Affair successful.”  “Okay.  I’m sure I won’t like hearing about it, but let’s have it anyway.  What?” A more frustrated Secret asks .  Affair sighs. “Okay. Let me just count off a few for you.”  “You’ve got a list? That’s just wonderful. Go on,” Secret invites. “Yeah. I got a list.  So listen up. We haven’t tackled the subject of what happens if a double agent, or their outside marriage partner, falls in love.”

Secret sucks in a long breath and lets it out. He thought about it for a couple of time beats before saying, “Falling in love. Yup. That could put the whole project Perfect Affair underwater for sure.  Cause once someone gets emotionally attached, they might want to go public with the news.  Or threaten to break the secret if they don’t get what they want out of their affair partner. Or might break the secret out of anger, jealousy, or revenge.”  “That’s true, Secret. Like in that movie Fatal Attraction with Michael Douglas and Glen Close.”  “That’s a real old movie.  But you’re right. It could end up just like that.  …An affair partner terrorizing a whole family, because an affair partner denied them what they wanted.” Secret slowly nods his invisible head in agreement.

Thinking that it was getting late, Affair decides to speed things up a bit. 

    “Hey. Let me hurry things up. My list isn’t that long but we don’t want to be here for eternity.” “Fine with me,” Secret says. “Good. There’s the problem of cologne and perfume scents getting on a double agents clothes, the risk of going to places that have security cameras, or just plain getting spotted by people who know you.  And then there’s trust issues.”   “What trust issues Affair?  I’ve always believed that affairs are built on a basic discretion, and basic trust.”  Affair invisibly rolls his eyes at Secret. “Oh are they?  Okay, what if an affair partner has a secret affair partner?” “Uh… Affair…  I want to officially withdraw my stupid question and my stupid statement.”  “No biggy Secret.  Now let me hit you with the hottest topic on my trip list.”  “What’s that Affair?”  “Guilt.” “Oh yeah! How could I not remember that?!” Secret hollers, but then smiles.

    “Hey, let’s not be so gloomy partner,” Secret encourages. “We might not come up with a plan for the perfect affair today, but somebody out there might figure it out. And whenever they do, all we have to do is steal their plan.”

*********

     Stop and think about an affair for a minute, and what it really offers. Is it worth the cost of destroying a marriage and family life? Is it possible to keep it on the down low, with hopes of never getting caught?

Now me? I’m too big a chicken to experiment with finding out. My IQ is not genius level and I suck at gambling. So…

No, seriously. I will fight for my marriage just like I would fight for my own life. God expects me to. My life with my wife is worth fighting for.

Thanks for stopping by for a read. And may God bless you so well that you know it’s Him.  

    

   

Aloha mahalo nui for stopping by! Aloha mahalo nui? I only know these three words in Hawaiian. I better switch back to the language I’m better at. Aloha mahalo nui means hello and thank you big time. I can’t get enough of Google-ing things I don’t know.

I hope that you are doing better than okay today. I’m going to limber up my typing fingers and grab the bull by his ankles. I got a goody for ya. And it rhymes with the word commotion. So hi ho blogger, awaaaaay!!!

Does anybody know about emotions? Hey, right here dude! I got my hand up. Okay, I can see that. But let’s give a reader a chance to answer first, okay? But I can answer the question. Yeah but nobody asked you to answer the question. That’s not true! I just heard you say anybody. Okay, I did say anybody. But you’re not the anybody I was talking to. You are the guy that writes the Write Teller dot com blog. You’re the blogger, remember? Yeah, I remember. But hey. Wait a minute. Who are you then? Aw c’mon, don’t you recognize me? I’m you. Okay. Let me get this right. YOU are me, and I am me? That’s right. You are you, and I am you. We both have the same name and live in the same body. Now do you get it? Uh… I think I do. All this time I have been talking to myself, right?

Now before anybody, and I do mean anybody not in this room, starts to thinking that my mind is running a little low on gas, let me tell you the reason for my little self talk. It was to get an emotional expression. Laughter to be exact. Laughter is an emotional expression. …Or so it says on one of the major internet search engines.

See, what I did was provide a joke to get an emotional expression going. Hey, go ahead and tell me. I’ll keep it on the down low. Did it work? Nice! With a joke, laughter usually kicks in right near the end, or at the very end of a funny story. If it didn’t happen for you, I probably need to get my keyboard looked at. But don’t worry. I plan on trying another jump start on you later. But let’s get back to emotions.

Emotions can be pretty powerful stuff, right? -Joy, grief, fear, anger, or jealousy, just to name a few. Ever try to control some of your stronger emotions? It can be about as difficult as stacking water.

Just for grins. Let’s put the emotions I mentioned in a bag and pick one at random. Hey, what do you know about that?! We have a winner! It’s fear. Okay. You got me. I rigged the selection process. I feel terrible about it. But you know how it is.

Fear can be a monster emotion for sure! It can compromise our ability to move, think, make decisions, or have faith in God. When fear hits you square in the brain, it can be like trying to wrestle an angry six hundred pound gorilla with your bare hands. Is it humanly possible too overcome this emotion? I mean, without the use of a prescription, or anti-prescription drugs, therapy, or divine help?

From a child’s age to adulthood, the fear monster is lurking around to put us in a panic.

Now I’m no psychologist. Me? …A psychologist? Pleaase! But I can share with you what I know. Fear is something that is not the kind of thing you can control without some kind of help. …Like anger, envy, or arrogant pride, and some others as well. So what’s the solution?

Before I try to answer that question, let me just share with you what I know for sure. Nothing works better than having faith in God’s ability to help us handle whatever is stronger than we are. Or should I say, practicing having faith in God. This works by finding out what we need to practice to help control our emotions, and diligently trusting God to know what He’s talking about when we do find out. The bible is a good place for finding out how to practice controlling our more powerful emotions.

Oh, hey! Here’s a good place for that jump start I was talking about earlier.

You’re outside. It’s nine something in the morning. You’re walking over to your neighbor’s house for something, when you notice a sixty or seventy pound dog in front of you, coming down the street. You didn’t notice him before because you were checking something on your phone.

The dog is staring at you, walking towards you like a leopard on the prowl, showing his teeth and growling like you kicked him. He’s only twenty feet away now, and you don’t have anything near you you can use as a weapon. Hello fear! Hey look. I would really appreciate it if you could please be nice enough to come back later. Now is really not a good time. I got this crazy animal to deal with right now, and I really need to think! But the only thing actually running through your mind is running, screaming, crying, or try to remember about what you read online about the best way to handle a dog attack.

This actually happened to me. -But without the phone, or thoughts about screaming or crying. And my neighbor was standing in his yard behind me.

The dog was close enough to easily catch up to me if I tried to run. I was sure he was about to force me into to making that choice. But my relationship with God helped me with almost all of the fear that was roaring to get my attention. All I had going for me was my faith that God would help me stand up to this bad tempered animal. And funny enough, right then another emotion was working on my mind too. It was the anger I felt towards the dog for his putting me in the position of possibly having to fight or flee for my health.

In the end, I knew that God was close me. I didn’t even have to think about it. I was ready to fight if I had to.

But the dog seemed to want to make our encounter a stand off. He wasn’t backing off and he wasn’t attacking. But after only about 3 or 4 seconds, my temper, and the courage God gave me to act, came together. I yelled at the dog to go away about two times and then took a small step forward. He didn’t budge, but kept on growling. I know, I know. What was I thinking? But let me continue.

I yelled louder for him to leave one final time, and took another small step forward. Now, you can believe what you want, but I say that right then and there that God took me off that dog’s mind. Because the dog turned around and left without exercising his option to hurt me. And I give God all the credit!

I wasn’t as afraid as I could have been. With God being firmly in my life I was able to control my fear emotion. And also, with His help, I was able to keep my anger under control, so that I didn’t let it control me to the point where I got reckless enough to attack the dog.

Like I said before. Some of our emotions are very powerful stuff. The more powerful ones are able to affect our judgment with ease. When we live our lives according to our strongest emotions, we become our own worse enemies.

If you are having trouble handling your strongest emotions, get yourself some help from God or somebody that knows about the side effects of strong emotions, or you can wind up getting handled. You don’t have to take my word for it. But I hear that God can work miracles in this area.

Thank you again for coming by and reading. May God grant you what you need the most.

Hey there! I hope that you are enjoying the kind of health that money isn’t able to buy, or are experiencing health improvement.

Now before I start rip writing like the wind. Yesterday was Memorial Day. So I’d just like to take a moment to pay homage to all the soldiers who sacrificed themselves for things like inalienable rights and duty. With great gratitude, I salute the memory of all these men and women.

Amen and amen. Let us blog on.

Every since men, women, and children have been around, people have been faced with making decisions from day to day. Ya?

Sometimes our decisions are made from a list of multiple choice choices. Remember those multiple choice test back when we were in… Yeah! I thought you hadn’t forgotten. Multiple choice test were the best, don’t you think? Usually the multiple choices were either A B C or D. Multiple choice test helped cut down on the odds of our choosing a wrong answer, a little. We eliminated the choices that didn’t sound right, and cut down the odds even more in our favor. With this kind of multiple choice test you had a one if four chance of deciding on the right choice. But life decisions are a little bit different, ain’t they? Before you say anything, ain’t is dictionary correct. I checked. But I think, I probably should’ve used the word aren’t instead of ain’t. Sigh. Here I am talking about decisions, and here I am in the middle of making a decision that lacks correctness. My apologies. Let me just get my foot out of my mouth. Now where was I? Oh yeah. Life decisions.

What kind of life decisions would be a good question to ask here. Well take for example, what kind of hairstyle to get? …Or what to wear? (Or what kind of words to use.) Or major decisions, like what kind of car to buy, or who’s a stable person to date, or just plain old who can you trust? Oh there are a continent-load of other life decisions we wind up making as we go through life. But here’s the thing. There are very few bad decision do-overs. That is, once you legally commit to a bad decision, and follow through with it, there’s very little chance of shaking off the consequences. Can I get an oh yeah? Really? Cool!

Okay, bad decisions… Usually we don’t realize how bad a bad decision is until we start to feel the power of the consequences. I know! Because I’ve only made one or two bad decisions in my life. WHAT??!!

Hold on! The truth be told… If I were to actually try to sell you this lie, it would bring my total amount of bad decisions up to an even umpity-ump hundred million bad decisions. But I’ve seen the light. I really do try hard to keep down my bad decision count down these days.

Amen! Now in as few words as I can think of, here’s what I think a bad decision is. It’s a decision we make whenever we think we can avoid running into consequences. “Chances are nobody will find out, or there’s a good chance I won’t get into any trouble, or I can always lie my way out of it, or I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it,” are usually what we’re thinking when we decide to make a bad decision.

Ever wonder just what pushes us into making a bad decision? Any guesses? Making easy money, maybe? Impatience? Anger? Hate? Greed? Wait. Before I run through a couple gigabytes of data, let’s just say that nothing good persuades us into making a bad decision.

Hey. Right quick. Let me type into existence what I think scares us about having to make a major decision. I’m thinking it’s fear. Aw… I knew it! I shouldn’t have given out any clues.

But to be exact though, it’s the fear of making a wrong decision. “Yeah that’s it!” somebody might be saying to themselves. “What in the name of good mental health am I supposed to do when my knees are knocking with fear, every time I have to make a major decision?”

Good questions. My answer? I can think of just two things that will take the fear out of making a wrong decision. That’s faith and research. Having faith that God is, and that He is a rewarder of those that follow His ways. And also having faith that He will create a way for us to know His take is on whatever we’re having trouble deciding.

Where the research comes in? It is in the gathering up of as much reliable information as we can from trustworthy resources. Like people that have had experience with what we’re trying to decide, along with reputable articles and reports. Me personally, from researching in the bible too. Combining all these things will give a clearer perspective. And so, somewhere between God’s willingness to grant us His wisdom, and filling up our minds with solid written information, and the testimonies of people who have lived through what we are having to decide, we gain the courage to decide with confidence.

While I’m here, let me add this little extra understanding about the fear of making a wrong decision.

My mom and dad both lived into their nineties. They both had dementia. I had to make life decisions for both of them. -Like whether or not to choose DNR for them or not. (Do Not Resuscitate/no trying to bring them back to life if they had an organ failure, or a life threatening accident).

I was scared and nervous about making this decision. I didn’t want to make a wrong decision. I was responsible for making decisions they couldn’t make for themselves. So what should I do?

Well, I chose Faith and research. Now I know this going to sound religious, but I prayed to God to help me make this decision. And I also got information from doctors and hospice nurses on the subject.

I also talked to people I knew and trusted about what they would do. And through all the conversations I had about what decision to make, somehow God’s answer came through loud and clear. …In the form of a flash of understanding. Dementia was eating both my parent’s minds away. Their bodies were frail, and they were barely eating or drinking. And miraculously, both of my parents each let me know that they were tired of living. I made the decision with a peaceful mind. DNR, yes. So in the event they had a heart attack, they wouldn’t suffer any life extending medical care, just so that they could continue to suffer more wasting away.

Hey. Some decisions are way too big to handle alone. No tough decision is too small. But before you make a big decision, it doesn’t hurt to get help making it. From people you trust. But most of all, try getting help from the only person who knows everything, past present and future.

Bad decisions pile up consequences. Good decisions pile up peace of mind and favorable results.

Thanks again for reading. Until next read, May God let you know in many ways how much He loves you.

Hey! How’s it going?! Glad you could make it. I’m Blogger, and I’ll be your writer for today. Sit anywhere you like. Today we’re serving a social problem in a blog. And before anybody asks… Sorry, we’re all out of gossip appetizers. Your writer, who will remain nameless, forgot to order some. You know how it is. So let’s blog!

Ever got into an argument before? No, not the kind of an argument where two or more people are willing to, at some point, let Google decide whose facts or opinions are full of spam and whose are not. -But the loud noisy kind, where careless angry words are thrown back and forth faster than the speed of thought, with a kilo-ton of profanity bombs going off in every direction. If you haven’t… Oh you have? No kidding? Hey, would you mind sharing who won the argument?

No no! On second thought, don’t tell me. House riots are very private things. I already know how house riots can go. -Somebody taking a court ordered jail vacation, or somebody taking an emergency hospital tour. But hey, that reminds me. Let me tell you about this one couple I know. Kowabunga! I almost forgot. We’re supposed to be all out of gossip appetizers today. Please don’t tell the website owner I almost goofed. I’d really appreciate it.

Whew. That was close. But let’s get back to prime time.

Now, for the sake of illustrating an argument, let’s build a life sized model of a “He screamed, she screamed” conversation. Uh… Okay. Maybe we better make that two men in a bar.

One guy, we’ll call him Ruff, and the other guy, we’ll call him Tuff. Ruff and Tuff were on their first bottle of beer. They have only been in the bar a good five minutes.

Ruff is six-foot-two, built like a big league linebacker, with short brown hair, a thin moustache, and grayish colored eyes under dark brown eyebrows. He looks like a white guy who just walked off a construction site. -Blue jeans, tan work boots, button-up blue work shirt, and like that.

Tuff is five-foot-eleven. -A truck driver. -Wearing a beat up baseball cap, jeans, cowboy boots, a gray muscle shirt, and a black beard. He is the total picture of a black muscular guy straight out of a 1970’s trucker movie.

They both are sitting next to each other at the bar watching a night football game. They’ve never met before. -Ruff is for one team, and Tuff is for the other. Okay. Now we got our scene all set up for this made for internet drama. So let’s roll the cameras. And… Action!

Ruff looks at the TV screen, takes a swig of his beer, and says to everybody at the bar, “Man, it’s 34 to 3, in the first quarter. If every man on my team were wearing snow skis, they would still be able to beat this bunch of overpaid, chicken legged, football losers.”

Tuff stops looking at the football game, and slowly places his beer bottle on the bar. Then he cranks his head around about at the turning speed of a really old doorknob, to look at Ruff. There is a shining glint of resentment in Tuff’s eyes as he says, “I see you know a lot about what you ain’t seeing. First of all, my team has an eight and oh record this season. Now I need you to keep up with me sports fan. That means they’re undefeated right? And what do you think would be happening to your team if our starting quarterback and three of our best defensive players weren’t injured.” Ruff sets his beer on the bar and loads up his mouth with profanity bombs. Tuff doesn’t stop talking long enough for Ruff to get even one out of his mouth.

“Oh no no no. Nuh uh, Mr. Sports fan. Before you get to slapping your lips together, let’s talk about your team for a minute. Your chicken biting team has one win and seven loses. Okay, now you can tell me all about how your team invented the losing streak.”

Ruff stands up slow. “Who do you think you are talking to home boy? First of all, Sports fan, your team draws the most penalties and the most fines in all professional football. Second of all, you need to think about watching your big mouth.”

Let’s put this rumble in the making on hold for a second. I know I know. I’m a fun stop-cop. But let’s look at what’s happening between Ruff and Tuff.

An argument is lit between the two men. This is obvious. But what can an angry argument lead to?

Disrespect challenges people to go on offense. If someone feels like they have been disrespected, they are likely to want to return that disrespect with equal or bigger disrespect. The matches people use to light the fire of a disrespectful argument are name calling, profanity, and saying things to make a person look like a social disgrace. So when disrespect enters into any argument… Look out! People with bad tempers can take the leash of their tongues in a light speed hurry!

Arguments are fine. An argument is something we take part in when we disagree. But arguments can be real trouble for us, when we argue with our anger and pride lit up like a roaring camp fire.

Arguments should always be handled with care. Respect and kindness keeps an argument from becoming a road rage incident.

But let me just type this in right quick. When an argument gets to where it’s too personal, or nobody wants to agree… It’s not worth arguing over. Try to let it go.

Winning an argument ain’t the easiest thing to do in the world. Winning a point in a discussion, with the facts, is.

So glad you stopped by for a read. May God give you what you need to get through every day.

     Hi there!  If you’re here, I’m so glad that you are!  And why would I be happy that you’re here?  That sounds like a cross examination question doesn’t it? But never mind. I’m happy you are well enough to be here, and because I get to share a revelation with you. So while my mind is shaking and baking, let’s blog.

Is enough enough? Good question.

     Enough is a simple enough word.  One of those words that’s not spelled like it’s spoken. But it is a good word to holler when you’re all out of patience.

Enough is the greatest one word I can think of that defines complete satisfaction.  Hey! I’m going to write that down.  Nah.  Just kidding.  So let’s have a look at this here word enough, and then we’ll know enough. 

Ok.  Say you just received enough money to pay off all your major and minor bills, for the next twenty-five years. -Meaning that all of your property taxes would be paid up for the next twenty-five years, including all of your groceries bills, medical bills, plus all other health care needs, clothing needs, retirement needs, and household appliance repair needs. Included in this deal would be enough money, for the next twenty-five years, to pay for four new cars, in cash, every four years, along with any kind of repairs they may need. And, of course this includes all gas and insurances as well. Alright. Hold on. Let me take a deep breath. ….Okay. Let’s roll.  

In that supply of cash, for the next 25 years, is money enough to be able to eat out five times a week, go to the movies three times a week, go on a twenty thousand dollar vacation three times a year, family and all.  And let’s just throw in a brand new six bedroom six bathroom modernized home every eight years, with new furniture provided every four years, professional style gym equipment, replaced every two years, a 60 foot yacht, replaced every five years, two jet skis, replaced every three years… Hey am I getting close to enough yet???  

     Now I know that I’ve left out a whole bunch of stuff, but if all these things were to be provided for you and your family for the next twenty-five years, would this be near enough? 

Why are you looking up at the ceiling?  If you had that kind of money in your hand right now—a cool two hundred and fifty million; would you say this might be close enough to your idea of enough?  

    Now I’m just guessing, mind you.  But I believe the first thing somebody might say is, “Yeah, it would be enough if…”  IF??? !!!!  Stop the car.  We just hit a two-foot deep pothole.  Because if there is an IF in your answer, what would be enough? 

     I get it though. How can enough ever be enough when a person isn’t so sure what enough is. Now hold that thought.  Let me hurry up and change into my human guinea pig disguise. 

     Give me a seventy-five inch flat screen smart TV, with 4k UHD, 2160p, that has all the other bells and whistles, and man I’m going to get happy feet! Who, me?!  Yup! I’d pop that Hi-tech monster out of it’s box, hook it up, turn it on, and then plop myself down on the couch to enjoy some real fine TV binge watching!  -Like Austin Powers used to says. “Yeah Ba-by!”  Now we’re talking about enough for sure! 

    But wait!  Now check this out.  One good old day, I go over to a friend’s house, and sit down to watch a little pro football on his ninety-eight inch flat screen, techno-monster. Aaand… You guessed it!  Right then and there, enough is going to kind of really start getting on my nerves!  Hey wait. Are you out there snickering at me?  (Insert the teeth grinding sound track here.) Hey that ain’t fair! I got a really good excuse! I’m only human, you know?! And… Okay, whatever!  

    But I know you see why the word enough can be hard to live with.  Having enough, a lot of times, competes with “If I only had a little bit more.”  For example:  Once upon a time, in the land of prime real estate, there was a brand new eight bedroom house with a pool, Pickle Ball court, and a Jacuzzi.  Derek and Monique were walking by it and thought.  “If we could just get this wonderful house, we would never ever want something this expensive ever again.”  Derek and Monique, are you sure about that?

Or how about this…  Jack B. Hip looks into the window of a tanning salon and sees the kind of woman he has always dreamt of.  She reminds him of a Ferrari he had once seen in a showroom—all racy curves and engineered for excitement.  He thinks to himself, “If she would just be my lady, I would never ever want any other woman for the rest of my life.” Are you sure about that Jack?

    Hellooooo!  Here’s a real live news exclusive to think about. Straight from the folks at Channel True News.  Until a person knows what enough really is, and accepts it, they’ll most likely keep looking past whatever enough looks like to get at something more.

     Ever really thought about what enough looks like? 

Well, don’t look at me! Everybody has to answer this question for themselves.  But in my mind, enough is the point where I stop looking for more than enough.

Here’s one example of my having enough. Having a woman who really loves me and cares about me, just as if I were a living piece of her arm.  My wife may be reading this blog today, so… (Enter here the sound track of my head turning slowly to look left and then right.) Aw, let me be serious just for a second. My wife is enough woman for me! 

A few of my other enoughs are just being able to go out and see a movie once in a while.  -Or staying in and streaming a couple of favorite shows or a sporting event. …Or going out to eat maybe once a week, or every other week.  Having my bills paid up. Hanging out at the park on a nice day. Enough for me is also hanging out with family and friends. Or having enough money in the bank to make a needed purchase, or the occasional saved up for purchase. -Like a 98 inch TV Bubbah! Just teasing. It’s too big and expensive for me.

  Don’t get me wrong. There are a few small purchases I’d like to make that are not in the budget. …Like a couple of plane tickets to Virginia to visit some good friends, or taking a few road trips with my wife and kids. -Simple things. But these are only some of my enoughs. Everybody’s are different. -But are they the kind of enoughs that really satisfy, or are they the kind of enoughs that don’t?

If you have God influencing your life, believe me, you’ll know every time you’re standing next to enough.  Thanks for reading.  And may God bless you in the most interesting ways.       

Hi. My accent of choice today is British. I do hope that it translates into the way I’m typing. And I do fancy a hope that you are having a splendid day of good cheer. Okay okay! I’m no Ed Sheeran. Criminy! Try to be a little bit different and… Uh oh… Did I just type that on the screen? Sorry. Sometimes I don’t edit as fast as I type. Any hoo. I really do hope you’re having a great day.

Today I’m going to crank out another short story for you. You look like you could use a little fun. Enjoy!

“I’ll Be Doggone”

Doctor Stanley Emmet stood casually next to his exam table. He is the living photo of a short/slim middle aged balding man, dressed in light blue hospital scrubs, wearing a white lab coat. His light blue eyes sparkle with kindness. With a neighborly tone he says, “Don’t worry Mrs. Gillory. We’ll take really good care of Champ for you. We’ll get his tail bobbed, and he should be ready to go home in just two days.” “Doctor Emmet. I really appreciate hearing that. I heard that you’re the best veterinarian in the city. I wouldn’t trust anybody else but you to clip Champ.” “There’s nothing to worry about Mrs. Gillory. Your Champ is in good hands.”

Mrs. Gillory smiles and bends down to pat Champ on the head before she leaves. She didn’t have to bend very far. Champ was a good size Pit Bull.

Sarah Gillory’s small dear face was crinkled with the lines of a thousand smiles. Most people wouldn’t think that such a smallish plump black woman, would never be the owner of a muscular, seventy pound, fighting dog breed. Outfitted in her pale-blue, knee-length summer dress, her fifteen year old beige sweater, and a pair of old style white sneakers, she looked more like a grandma than the owner of a canine brute. She responded to the doctor.

“Thank you Doctor Emmet.” Then she looks down at her tan colored puppy. “Now Champ you be a good dog and don’t give the Doctor no troubles, you hear me sweetie?” Champ wags his tail and looks deeply into his owner’s eyes.

Since he was ten weeks old, his heart was filled with love for the elder black lady that sang him to sleep at night, gave him his baths, played with him in the backyard, and gave him lots of doggie treats. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, and as close as he could come to a grin, he grins at Sarah.

On impulse, he looks over his shoulder at the veterinarian, barks once, then turns his head to look back at Sarah. “Don’t worry Miss Sarah. Me and the doc will get along real good, just as long as he leaves my tail alone.” Champ tells her this with a great big doggie smile.

Sarah Gillory’s face shows surprise. She stands up slowly, clasping her purse tightly. Her eyes lock onto the eyes of Doctor Emmet, and his lock onto hers.

They told him in veterinarian school that no dog could ever master human speech. So he was most certainly stunned! The shock was so big that he couldn’t think of what he should say first.

But in only a few seconds, Sarah smiles apologetically and says, “Doctor Emmet. I had no idea that this rascal, Champ, was going to change his mind before we got here.” She said this with her eyes opened wide with amazement.

With embarrassment plastered all over her face, Sarah takes her eyes away from the doctor, and quickly bends down to attach a leash to Champ’s collar. “Doctor, I’m really so sorry we bothered you.” And in a scolding voice she says to her six month old puppy, “Now Champ, you go ahead and tell Doctor Emmet your sorry, and thank him for seeing us.”

Do you have a Champ at your house? You never know.

I sincerely thank you for reading. And may God bless you in ways that let you know He’s there.

Happy What Day is This!  Glad you could happen to be here! Today I’m going to throw a quick story at you. Got to keep the variety going. Ya? Hopefully my short stories are as much fun as fortune cookies. –A surprise in each one. Enjoy!

On the second floor of the Austerian embassy, two figures move with the stealth and alertness of jungle felines down an unlighted hallway. The two figures are covered from head to toe in black ninja clothing and wearing back packs. If not for their eyes being covered up by sophisticated night vision goggles, their fear of getting caught would show. Walking almost shoulder to shoulder they move towards the office at the end of the hall.

They are not in the Austerian embassy by accident. They are on a mission to steal on behalf of their government. The chances of their succeeding are not as good as their chances of being caught.

Eight paces from the office at the end of the hall, the taller of the two burglars, in the dark, whispers. “Keep it on your mind Stetson, we won’t have much time to get out of this Embassy if we don’t open the safe on the first try.  Okay, we’re here. The office door lock is all yours.” “I’m on it Williams,” Turner Stetson whispers.

Only an inch shorter than his tall partner, but every bit as well muscled, Stetson reaches into the chest pocket on his stealth suit and produces an electronic device. He applies it to the door’s electronic reader and turns it on. Within six seconds both men hear a buzz and a click. Without hesitation Stetson pushes the door open and they both go in.

Stetson closes the door while Desmond Williams walks quickly over to a mini bar. In only seconds Stetson joins him there. Williams is already reaching around to the back of the mini bar feeling for a button he knows is there. Stetson checks his infrared chrono. It is three minutes past midnight. Under his mask, he smiles. They were still good on time.

Williams finds the button he’s looking for in less time than it takes to clap three times. The mini bar immediately sinks into the floor and a light gray safe slides down out of an overhead cabinet to take its place.

The safe has no buttons or a dial. Just a small four inch LCD display screen with the same size speaker underneath. Stetson turns his smile into a frown as he stands studying the safe. Williams notices his partner’s hesitation and prompts him to speak. “Well? You having a coronary or what? Let’s go Stetson. We ain’t got a millennium you know.”

Stetson’s eye goggles lift up from the safe to look at Williams. “Man, this is a newer version of the ZRB51, Voice Command, Sonic Safe.  It has an improvement that’s going to cause us trouble,” Stetson gripes out loud. “A newer ZRB51 huh?” Williams replies semi-calmly.  “Stetson, I swear, those Intel guys are going to be the death of me one of these days,” he whispers fiercely.  But without missing a beat he shrugs his shoulders and says, “We don’t have time to sit here and Google our way out of this mess.  Go ahead and try opening the little pain in the seat cushion, and get ready to run for it.”  “I copy you Williams.  Let me the get my micro recorder out of my back pack. Either this recording of Baron Von Grueden’s voice will open this gadget safe or it won’t. And by the way, those guards we left downstairs with those anesthesia darts in them… They just might be early risers you know.”

    “Roger that Stetson.  But don’t worry, we’ve got more darts. However, tell me again what’s supposed to happen with a voice command safe,” Williams asks, feeling sweat dribble down his back. “Okay, Williams, real quick. We play Von Grueden’s voice, saying that he wants to access the safe, then the safe asks him a prearranged question. We use the micro recorder’s voice synthesizer feature, synthesizing my voice to sound like the exact match of Von Grueden’s to answer it, and wa-la!  The safe door is supposed to whoosh open, like the door at your local supermarket.”

     “So then what’s the hold up?  Play the thing already.  I don’t see a problem,” Williams whispers aggressively.  “The problem, my good co-agent, is that the ZRB series safe usually asks the same question every time you attempt to open it. Which is no problem. I have the verification answer on the micro recorder. But the problem with this latest model is that it asks a legal question for user verification. So you see, I would have to guess the answer,” Stetson informs.

All of a second goes by before Williams says, “Stetson. I see your point.  But man, let’s get with it! We got to open this silly safe!” 

     “Keep your voice down you idiot!” Stetson whispers loud enough to be heard outside the office.  “Williams are you trying to tug on my patience?  You can’t be serious.”  “As serious as a felon trying to avoid the police after he commits a felony, “Williams confirms. 

     “We gotta take a shot at getting the plans Von Grueden has in this safe. Because either we get the plans in this safe, or the Austerian government uses these plans to build a machine that can cause a coast to coast blackout in the US. So let er rip.” Stetson takes a deep breath, lets it out, and nods. “Let’s do it.” He presses the play button on the micro recorder. It whirs to life, and in Baron Von Grueden’s voice it says  VON GRUEDEN, ALPHA 2-1-5-7, DELTA EPSILON.”

     *BARON VON GRUEDEN VOICE MATCH CONFIRMED* the safe announces in a robot voice, and then asks.  *WHAT IS THE STATUE OF LIMITATIONS ON A BURGLARY FELONY IN AUSTERIA? YOU HAVE THIRTY SECONDS TO COMPLY.*  “Stetson!   Why you just standing there with that stupid look on under your mask?!  Man do something!”  “Didn’t I tell you to keep your voice down?  Let me think, let me think!  Uhhh…” Stetson vocalizes.  *Doot! Doot! Doot! Doot…!*  “Stetson, what’s that?  That’s not what I think it is, is it?” Williams asks.  “Yeah, I’m afraid it is.  That’s the count down to our getting locked into this room, if  I don’t come up with the right answer, in Von Grueden’s own voice, before the last doot!”  “Now who’s raising his voice?”  “Will you shut it?!!!!  This ain’t funny, super spy!” Stetson grouches. 

     Williams catches his breath, then says out loud. “Hey Stetson, that music the safe is playing, isn’t that the music from the Jeopardy game show?”  “Yeah it is.  And I just wasted another three seconds listening to you telling me about it.  NOW WILL YOU SHUT UP AND LET ME THINK!”  “Okay, go ahead and think.  But you better come up with something in a hurry.  Anything!  Just don’t expect me to be here for the last doot, ten seconds from now.”  Stetson slaps his partner on the shoulder. “In that case I think we better run for it Williams!” 

Right as both men turn towards the office door, to start running for their lives, Stetson turns to look at the safe, and says, “You stupid safe.”   Out of the micro recorder comes the same words, bringing about an immediate response. The safe opens and says *ACCESS GRANTED* Stetson freezes in his tracks and signals to Williams.

“Pssst.  Hey Williams, hold it.  Come back here a minute will you.  Guess what?”

I’m glad you could stop by today. Thanks for reading. And may God bless you with everything you need.

Getchya fresh wrote blog here! Get it while it’s… Naw lady, we ain’t got none a dat. Yeah I’m talkin ta you. The lady down in front, with her baseball cap on backwards. We ain’t got no eye candy no more. You got the wrong blogger fa sure this time.

Hi. Huh? Oh, the stuff about the eye candy and all? Just remembering the good old days at the ball park. Back in the 1950’s somewhere, when they use to bring the food and drink out to your seat. The eye candy thing is from today’s times. …Just threw that in for a wow factor. …And the accent I was writing in was courtesy of the early day New Yorker.

Got a hot topic today. An ancient oldy but still a good conversation piece. Lock your wheels, cause it’s Weekday Blog Live!

Telling a lie, sets the truth awry, and exposes a liar’s disrepute.  Because after it’s known, a liar’s nose has grown, a liar must fear running into the truth.

And though they wail, they have told no tales, that their lie is really better than the truth. The lie remains, an utter stain, a genuine Red Letter attribute.

So it’s plain to see, without any doubt to be, a lie creates serious disruption.  Please, don’t be fooled, a lie is tooled, to promote deceit and slithery corruption.

I got caught in the middle of a lie once. Ooops! Now that’s twice! Aw man! …Just lied again! Sorry. Sigh… I just did it again, didn’t I? I better quit. I seem to be having trouble telling the truth today. Dang it all! …That’s another lie! I’d like to apologize to everyone. [We are experiencing technical difficulties at this website.] That is it!!! You know what… Sigh. I wish that George Washington were here. The history books say that he stated he could not tell a lie. Good for you George, but I’m no General.

If only telling the truth could cover up a lie, right? Then we would all be in business, wouldn’t you agree? But I guess the truth can never do that. Only a lie can. And they’re are so easy to tell, aren’t they. Right here, let the choir say you are so right.

But like it said in the poem above, once your nose grows like Pinocchio’s, people tend to expect that you are not above substituting the truth with a lie or two, or three, or more.

Tell just one lie and your reputation for honesty gets skunked, and people’s trust in you starts to crumble.

Now what causes a human citizen to lie is… Oh man, will you just look at the time! I’m coming up on blog overload! I better get going before I get boring.

I appreciate you stopping by for a quick read. May God’s peace find you, good health be your mainline, and God’s love fill up all of your life’s calendar days.

My office chair is at room temperature; Check. Blog writer is prepped and ready to rumble; Check. Electric bill is paid up for the month, I think. Now did I pay my internet provider this month? Maybe I should give them a call. Never mind. It can wait. I believe Writeteller.com is ready for a post lift off.

I probably should have Ai write me up some jokes, huh?

Hi! Got a a new post to host. Let me just type it out for you.

What do you think about when you hear or see the word forgiveness? …Anybody?

These days, I’m thinking that it’s a word that doesn’t have a functioning definition. What does not having a functioning definition mean? I’ll be honest with you. This idea of a non-functioning definition just came to me. Forgiveness has been on my mind for a long time now. So this revelation is kind of catching me by surprise. But I think that the revelation information came just at the right time.

First, when you forgive somebody, how do you think it works? I use to think that you just say you forgive a person, and that would be the end of it. All better. All good. So now, let’s be friends. But does it really work that way? Does saying you forgive someone have some kind of magical effect that makes hate and hard feelings disappear?

I’m guessing that most of the time “I forgive you” is code for “I forgive you, BUT..” Forgiveness with a “but” in it is usually forgiveness with conditions. Hard feelings included. Can you read what I’m saying?

Okay. What if a person says “I forgive you,” but after they say it, they still can’t stand to be in the same room as the person they’ve forgiven? Forgiveness? …Or say that they forgive, but won’t pray a word on the forgiven person’s behalf. …Or after a forgiver says that they forgive, can’t look at the forgiven person without unforgiveness still burning in their eyes. I’m no PhD. But this is not the dictionary’s definition of what forgiveness is. I wouldn’t blame anybody if they didn’t take my word for it. Ask Google what he thinks. …She? Google is a guy, right?

Folks, when it comes right down to it, which kind of forgiveness is worth giving or receiving? The kind God gives or the kind that is only on the outside, with no real forgiveness on the inside. But, right quick, let me spread a little starlight on something very important about the kind of forgiveness that is worth giving or receiving. Forgiveness of this kind can only be given if it comes from the kind of love God has for everyone on Earth. It’s the only power I know that can power forgiveness that is given without conditions. …Meaning forgiveness without any hatred, prejudice, false good, or grudges added in. Without God’s kind of love in it, there can never be the dictionary’s definition of forgiveness. God’s love is at the heart of all real forgiveness.

To forgive someone who framed you, for a crime you didn’t commit, would take the power of God’s love, wouldn’t you agree? And not being willing to forgive; wouldn’t that highlight an anti God’s-love kind of power?

Hey. Got to let my keyboard cool off now. Glad you stopped by. Until next blog. Keep a good thought handy.