A Man’s Mystical Manual of Instruction

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He knew the instant he slid his butt into the chair that it was meant to be. After all, how could anyone sit in front of a computer without a chair? With this perfunctory action comfortably out of the way, it became clear what he was supposed to do. But how?

Man’s Mystical Manual of Instruction, that’s how. And exactly what is A Man’s Mystical Manual of Instruction, you ask?

A cryptic book providing guidance for any man when in doubt as to what it is he should be doing. All men are equipped with one—at least as far as I know.

It’s a fact (well, NOW IT IS) that a man should subscribe all of his unconscious thoughts to this book—that is, when the television isn’t on which as any wife will tell you is the true source of all man’s knowledge. Well, my wife will swear by that anyway.

Also—as a man who has never read the book—it’s internal—I noticed that it states on page 6 section 12 paragraph C…

“Occasionally it is good for a man to have an idea and go do something about it—so that his wife will know he’s still breathing.”

I guess that’s why they call it A Man’s Mystical MANual of Instruction because without it males would probably go out and do something absolutely stupid—and ironically we sometimes still do.

Like the time when I was a boy of eight and (foolishly) tried to go jump a picket fence, but it was in the manual so naturally I went and did it.

You’ll never convince me the reason I had a high pitched soprano voice for the next twenty-five years, was because of some adolescent hormonal change.

Puberty my ass!

Nevertheless, that’s what A Man’s Mystical Manual of Instruction does for you. It tells a man what it is he’s supposed to do… even when it defies all logic—LIKE ATTEMPTING TO JUMP OVER A PICKET FENCE LIKE AN IMBECILE!

You want an example, huh? Alright, let me think of one… I’ve got it!

Boing Boing

Boing Boing

Fabio! Now there’s a guy who was born to look into mirrors… and occasionally do commercials.

That’s the stuff mystical manuals are made of!

You say you want another example? Jeez, you’re a demanding group of readers. Hmm…

Alright, how about, Bruce Jenner?

Now there’s a guy who went on to win the men’s decathlon. Of course, Caitlyn Jenner came along later and changed everything and I do mean… EVERYTHING!

Naturally, after that, Bruce was immediately bounced from the man rolls and given his walking papers, never to subconsciously consult A Man’s Mystical Manual of Instruction ever again. But rules are rules.

Hey, don’t blame me it’s not my fault. I didn’t create the Man’s Mystical Manual of Instruction—only the rules found in it. It’s up to you guys to follow the rules.

Just remember, though, I’m not the guy who was a guy who became the woman who changed the guy into a woman… LITERALLY!

Anyway, where was I?

Oh yeah… so back to the guy sitting in a chair in front of his computer. Now this guy, his thing, the thing he was born to do (as recorded in… the Man’s Mystical Manual of Instruction), turns out it was his destiny.

And it’s a good thing too, because imagine if he wasn’t meant to do it? That means some other poor sap would have gotten stuck with that fate. Why this guy might still have been sitting in front of his television (snoring) if he hadn’t discovered his true manifest destiny?

That’s right, you heard me correctly—and if you did, you’ve really got great ears because I only wrote that part—IT WAS HIS MANIFEST DESTINY! Uh… accompanied by an epiphany, which we’ll get to later.

Turns out, that was my manifest destiny.

Now I know all this is hard for you to believe, but there it is in black and white on page 4,234,592,001,632, section 7, paragraph D of my personal copy of A Man’s Mystical Manual of Instruction and it states, and I’m quoting…

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Shutterstock.com

“The guy in the chair in front of his computer—that would be me—as listed in the “In My Cluttered Attics” blog post dated Monday, January 30, 2017—will discover his manifest destiny and this will lead to his having an epiphany—which might have to be removed later by means of brain surgery.”

And what exactly was my manifest destiny—excluding the epiphany? It was for me to become one of the early pioneers responsible for the expansion of America—by way of the information highway.

Huh?

Okay, so I missed the appointment with manifest destiny by over a hundred years.

That’s a good thing, though, because it also meant that I avoided the challenging—if not virtually impossible—journey to expand 19th century America by way of the, as yet, unpaved information highway.

Now I know what you’re thinking here, you’re thinking: “Please no more I can’t take it!” But we all have to press on… there’s no turning back now!

Why you ask?

Well, what else would you have me do, refer you all to the National Hieroglyphics Channel on the subject? You know they did a special on this topic back in 69 B.C. However, oddly enough, they never ran the episode again? Also, the DVD hasn’t come out on Amazon yet either?

Guess they’re waiting for the directors cut.

So… we have no choice but to press on… TOGETHER… because I don’t wanna have to recount this whole affair all by myself.

Anyway it’s just as well,. You see A Man’s Mystical Manual of Instruction has never recommended a National Hieroglyphics Channel episode ever.

Well… not one originating in my unconscious thought process, anyway.

And what about those episodes originating in my conscious thoughts, you ask?

That’s one I’m too afraid to think about.

All the same, I haven’t finished my post here yet, and I’ve established a quota of about thousand words, which should leave me about three hundred more to go. So just wait where you are folks, we’re almost there, and then you can go to the bathroom and tinkle.

Now cutting to the epiphany part of the manual—it’s listed in the bibliography section.

So this guy (Moi), suddenly comes to realize that his manifest destiny of expanding 19th century America (through the information highway) has passed him by. That’s when I decided to get on the internet and head out west.

Then I discovered that the early pioneers stopped expanding westward when they hit the Pacific Ocean—imagine that, who knew—probably because their Conestoga wagons weren’t water-proof.

Suddenly the epiphany struck…

“I realized I didn’t need a water-proof Conestoga wagon to expand 19th century America. All I really needed was Google Maps… well, and Minecraft!

That’s right… with Google Maps and Minecraft I could set out to blaze a whole new trail.

So I started (and ended) by extending the old Oregon Trail to a point out in the Pacific Ocean 40 degrees North Latitude by 130 degrees West Longitude, where the Feds finally caught up with me for loitering on (my now derelict) oil platform.

They ordered me to cease and desist (can you believe it?) in the telling of this tall tale which for some reason has resulted in my growing a rather long nose?

Giphy

GiphyAlright, so Man’s Mystical Manual of Instruction can sometimes lead you astray—like out into the middle of the Pacific Ocean.It ain’t perfect.

So, what does A Man’s Mystical Manual of Instruction tell us about man and his occasional lapses in thinking?

That perhaps man is not perfect after all, and all because of his inner mystical manual of instruction… BEING OBVIOUSLY DEFECTIVE!

Therefore…

Maybe we shouldn’t blame man—who is a marvelous creature (sometimes) for all of his illogical thinking, but instead, blame his DEFECTIVE AND BROKEN MANual!

Just for the record… my wife says that last part is just a whole bunch of poppycock.

See, what did I tell you? GOTTA BE THE MANUALS FAULT.

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Psst… Wanna Hear A Secret?

Have you figured it out yet? You know … my secret? Maybe you were you just reviewing all the clues I left you?

Phew, now you have me worried. that’s because I haven’t left any clues yet. That’s alright, though, ’cause I still have a secret. It’s around here somewhere? Well, actually I have more than one secret.

Like the one about why I wear a disguise. What disguise? My red nose disguise, silly!

Not that I’m a huge celebrity or anything like that. I’m more like a skinny one, but with a slightly expanding waistline.

In any event, I couldn’t possibly pose for a photograph with you anyway, ’cause this is a blog post.

On the other hand, I can tell you about my wife’s BIG SECRET.

She actually is a celebrity. Yep, and she gets recognized when we go out in public too — unlike me.

The wife, signing autographs.

The wife, signing autographs.

However, I have to be careful with this secret, because she made me swear never to post about it.

Probably because when her fans recognize her they get excited and ask her for an autograph, or if she wouldn’t mind posing with them for a photo. Which she happily does.

But, seeing as she doesn’t have a blog, she’ll probably never find out that I let that secret out of the bag.

You could say my wife actually has an edge on me when it comes to being recognized by fans, or for being asked to pose with them in photos.

I, on the other hand, stand a much better chance of posing for photos with folks, if I just photo-bomb their photos.

I’m an acorn in my wife’s shadow. Let me give you an example of what I mean, and this actually did happen to us. Well, to me anyway.

We were out at this amusement park one day, when this family sitting across from us on the monorail (I’ll let you guess where), suddenly recognized my wife —sunglasses and all!

I probably should have removed my red nose and they might have recognized me as well. But, I thought, maybe I should let my wife have her moment in the limelight, she deserves it — again.

The wife, sunglasses and all!

Her fans asked her if she wouldn’t mind posing for a photo with them. Naturally, she smiled and said, “Sure!”

So, when the monorail came to a stop, we all stood up and I stepped back out of their way.

Back, and off of the monorail that is. Then the monorail doors closed on me!

The acorn in her shadow.

The acorn in her shadow.

Leaving me standing outside of the monorail with my camera hanging around my neck like some kind of tourist (which I was), only to helplessly wave bye-bye to my wife and children (and her fans) as the monorail pulled out of the station.

Again, leaving me standing there with nothing but a red nose on my face — which also matched the color of my face as well.

True story (except for the red nose part), and no longer a secret to anybody reading this post, or to anyone at the monorail station who witnessed it all.

At least I can say I gave those waiting in line for the next monorail, a good laugh.

But, that’s what we comedians do, we make people laugh. Even when it’s at our own expense — or when we don’t get paid for it. Like in this case.

Hmm, now that I think about it, maybe my wife was right. Perhaps I should have kept this a secret after all.

2017… Going Where No Man Has Gone Before

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Captains Log, Stardate 2017.5. Having just left the Delta quadrant, where we finished off yet another peaceful intervention by destroying a bunch of Klingons and their vessels (because they’re bad, and not in a Michael Jackson way), I retired to my cabin slipping into a deep sleep, and began to dream.

In my dream I was with this beautiful female alien… while shirtless, yet AGAIN. Not that that is important to Starfleet in any way. However, this female alien had this multi-colored face and was wearing what appeared to be some sort of ancient space toga.

Why they never wear a typical space suit is beyond me? Then again, I’m certainly glad she didn’t have 14 arms, 5 claws, and 1 eye with no hair, or I can guarantee you I wouldn’t have shed my shirt… quite as fast.

So I was just about to kiss this female alien when Dr. McCoy summons me to the bridge—DARN!

giphyI arrived on deck just in time to witness Bones (Dr. McCoy) debating with first officer Spock on a rather questionable decision he was making as to where our next adventure should take us.

Bones: Spock, have you taken leave of your senses? Go back to earth to the year 2017? Are you out of your ever loving Vulcan mind?

Spock: On the contrary Doctor, I’m in complete control of my faculties, and it’s imperative we go back to earth now… before the wrath of Negan.

Kirk: Spock… McCoy… what’s… happening?

Bones: Jim, you’re doing it again.

Kirk: What? What am I doing again?

Spock: Pausing between your words captain, a pattern suggestive of Shakespeare, but more likely that of an actor hoping to turn all the attention back onto himself, instead.

Kirk: Star Fleet Academy class of 3054. It’s called modulation, Spock, you should try it.

Spock: That would not be logical captain.

Kirk: Of course not. (deep breath) Why earth, why now?

Bones: He thinks it’s full of ZOMBIES, Jim!

(An answer I hadn’t quite expected, but this being space the final frontier and all, and given what we’ve seen lately, I supposed anything was possible. So I remained calm and asked…)

Kirk: Is that true, Spock?

Spock: I’m afraid so captain.

Kirk: He says its true, Bones.

McCoy: But Jim, do you honestly believe earth has been overrun with… ZOMBIES?

Kirk: I don’t know doctor, but if has, I suspect they’ll be passed your skills as a surgeon.

Pinterest

Pinterest

Spock: Captain I assure you, earth is full of zombies.

Kirk: Of that I have no doubt, Spock, but we’re the U.S.S. Enterprise not the Starship… BIG SURPRISE. It’s true we go where no man has gone before, but don’t you think this is going a bit too far? I mean, I know we’ve had Tribbles before, but this?

Spock: Just back to earth, captain.

Bones: Spock, are you seriously suggesting we ignore Starfleets five year mission for us: to explore strange new worlds, seek out new life forms, new civilizations, and boldly go where no man has gone before? Return to earth to the year 2017 and face THE WALKING DEAD? You can’t be serious?

Spock: Doctor, the needs of the many out way the needs of the few, or even the one—as in your case.

Kirk: Where have I heard that before?

Bones: Why you green blooded, pointy eared…

Kirk: That too.

Spock: Doctor… I have been, and always will be, a fan of The Walking Dead.

Kirk: Now I know I’ve heard that somewhere before, or at least something like it. Bones, can he be fixed?

Bones: Spock?

Kirk: Yes!

Bones: Well I don’t know. I’m a doctor, A DOCTOR,  JIM… NOT A PROCTOLOGIST!

Kirk: Spock, I think Dr. McCoy just called you uh…

Spock: I’m well aware of what the good doctor is implying, captain. But the fact remains, we must change course for earth, before it’s too late.

Kirk: Too late for what, Spock? You mentioned Negan? What’s a Negan

Spock: Not what, captain, who. He walks among The Walking Dead, wrecking havoc.

Kirk: What on earth for?

Tell Tales

Tell Tales

Spock: So he can weaken the series ratings, captain.

Kirk: You mean this Negan is trying to wreck a television series… not earth?

(Just then, I felt myself being shaken awake by…)

Mr. Chekov: Keptan, Keptan, KEPTAN ARE YOU ALRIGHT?

Kirk: Mr. Chekov? Yes, yes I’m fine Mr. Chekov.

Mr. Chekov: Keptan, Mr. Sulu wants to know if we should proceed at warp speed?

Kirk: Warp? Most certainly was.

Mr. Chekov: What’s that Keptan?

Kirk: Oh nothing. Yes, uh, tell Mr Sulu warp factor six. The sooner I’m out of this nightmare the better. I really gotta stop drinking that Romulan ale!