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 his way, it became clear what he was supposed to do. But how?

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

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

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

Also—as a man who has never read the book, because 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 I naturally went and did it.

That’s why you’ll never convince me that 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 that he’s meant to do… even when it defies all logic—LIKE ATTEMPTING TO JUMP OVER A PICKET FENCE LIKE AN IMBECILE!

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

Boing Boing

Boing Boing

Fabio! Now here’s a guy who seems to have been born to look into mirrors… and occasionally do commercials.

That’s the stuff mystical manuals are made of!

You want yet 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 later came along 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. But hey, it’s up to you guys to follow those 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…

Shutterstock.com

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 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.

Now, what does A Man’s Mystical Manual of Instruction really tell us about a man and his thinking?

That perhaps a man is not perfect because of his mystical manual of instruction. As you see, it does let him down and appears to be defective.

Therefore…

Maybe we shouldn’t be blaming the man for all those occasional lapses in logical thinking, but instead, blame his DEFECTIVE MANual!

Right?

For the record… my wife says “That’s a bunch of poppycock.”

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

Psst… Wanna Hear A Secret?

So have you figured it out yet? You know… my secret? Did you catch all the clues I left you? Alright then, did you catch just a few of the clues I left you? None of the clues I left you? Have you even bothered to review all the clues I left you?

Well why not? Oh I see, you’ve just been reviewing all the clues I left you. And you still came back? Are you sure you’re alright? I mean, maybe you outta sit down?

Okay, so you’re alright? Phew had me worried there for a minute, especially since I haven’t really left any clues. But I do have a secret.

ONE SECRET.

Well actually I have more than one secret, however, that ONE SECRET if I were to tell you that one secret, might eliminate the need for my disguise. What disguise?

Why… my red nose, silly!

Anyway, that means my one secret is gonna have to remain a secret. Not that I’m a huge celebrity, I’m a skinny one… with a slightly expanding waistline.

Besides I couldn’t pose for a photograph with any of you much less sign an autograph, because I don’t think that’s possible on this blog.

Now on the other hand, I could tell you about my wife’s BIG SECRET. The one about her BEING A CELEBRITY who occasionally gets recognized when we go out.

The wife, signing autographs.

The wife, signing autographs.

Then again, she made me swear never to tell you that secret… even in hushed tones.

Probably because she really does sign autographs for people and pose for pictures with them.

But she doesn’t have a blog—I got her there!

Still, I probably stand a better chance of getting into a photo only if I photo-bomb someone else’s photo op, so she actually has the edge there. You might say I’m an acorn in my wife’s shadow.

Here I’ll give you an example of what I mean, and this actually happened.

Once we were on this Monorail (I’ll let you guess where), and this family recognized my wife—yeah, sunglasses and all!

The wife, sunglasses and all!

They asked her if she wouldn’t mind posing with them for a photo. I was asked to pose, too. No doubt, an afterthought.

Anyway, I thought, “Sure, why not.”

Except, I made the mistake of stepping off of the monorail—thinking that my wife was right behind me—and then the monorail doors closed BEHIND ME. I gotta get the name of that joker.

The acorn in her shadow.

The acorn in her shadow.

Anyway, as the monorail left the station I was left thinking about what might have been, as my wife remained on board with the family and posed for pictures with her fans.

Naturally this left me (the acorn) standing there with nothing but egg on my face—and a red nose.

True story and no longer a secret as everyone at the monorail station—who were all laughing—will attest.

But hey, that’s what we comedians do we make people laugh—even when we don’t get paid for it!

You know, now that I think about it, maybe I should have kept this… A SECRET.

Sherlock: It’s “The Final Problem”

Rebloggy

Rebloggy

Don’t Get Murdered While You’re Wearing an Alarming Shade of Pink. SH

Normally I wouldn’t do what I just did above, but because I love this show so much, and obviously, a great many of you probably do as well, I just wanted to take a moment to recognize another blogger who frequently comments on Sherlock, and who also has this magnificent gift for insight. She truly offers a unique perspective on a variety of shows and movies.

First of all, though, many of you are probably aware that tonight’s two hour episode of “Sherlock” may not only be the season final, but perhaps the series final as well—I myself hope that’s a total lie. Sure, the series may have run its course, but when it was good it was very good, and if this is the end I think we all hope that it offers a satisfying conclusion.

Pinterest

Pinterest

Back in 2010 “Sherlock” made superstars out of its leads Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman, both of whom are practically everywhere now, and largely the reason for such speculation.

Rebloggy.com

Rebloggy.comwriting crisp and clever, jammed with so much material, it was amazing writer’s, Mark Gattis (who also plays Mycroft Holmes, Sherlock’s older brother) and Steven Moffat were even able to cram in so much minutiae.

Each episode features marvelous deduction sequences which often move so fast, it requires repeat viewings to catch all the crucial and important details.

Naturally, now that Cumberbatch and Freeman’s schedules are so demanding, it feels like the two years in-between each series is probably needed… just so fans can catch up!

Not every episode has been pure genius—sometimes the writing for the show is cluttered, like my attic—but it continues to consistently offer plenty of neat twist and turns to keep the show refreshing and entertaining.

Again, much like my attic writing, except that the writers of Sherlock actually offer stories which lead to rational conclusions… unlike my attic.

However, I continue to work on solving that problem and any day now I could have a breakthrough in that area—just like Hollywood could select a Star Wars film for Best Picture. In other words… don’t hold your breath.

But back to the blogger whose talent I wish to recognize.

Her name is Andrea, and her blog is named “Crime and Relative Dimension in Space” and here’s the link to it  https://crimeandrelativedimensioninspace.com/2017/01/14/a-few-subjective-truths-about-sherlock-series-4/

Andrea, offers some of the best in-depth writing on shows and movies I’ve ever read.

Like the writing on Sherlock, it is truly OUTSTANDING material to review. Not only does her writing uncover a wonderful range of emotions in the characters, but her writing also offers some great observations on what is going on under the surface of those characters.

All this she presents beautifully well while touching on each of the characters true motivations, sense of humor, devotion of friendship, and of course… the cool sound deductive reasoning that permeates each episode.

There’s heart and soul here folks, and it’s sounds like she was actually in the minds of Mark Gattis and Steven Moffat when they were writing the material for the show. She’s that good!

Although, Sherlock may be coming to an unbearable end tonight (hopefully a special movie now an then would be nice), I’m hoping Andrea’s comprehensive writing will not, as it offers so much more to take in, be it Sherlock, or some other show.

She also offers insights into novels, soundtracks, games and movies, each with plenty of thoughtful commentary, offering a wealth of information to critically digest on those subjects.

So again, please check out her blog…

A Few (Subjective) Truths about Sherlock, Series 4

I really think you’ll enjoy it.

 

 

Breaking Fake News: The Election Is Over!

Good Guys To Know

Good Guys To Know

As you know I’ve been in seclusion for a while, just had to get away. That’s because there was an election last month and well… it got pretty ugly.

Now I’m not one to whine about election results—ESPECIALLY AN ELECTION WHERE I LOST! No, I’m one to whine because my opponent—one slimy, funny looking guy named, BOB—won!

GQ.com

GQ.com

Naturally there were a lot of rumors flying around the office after the election (which was for Commanding Editor and Chief of this particular blog) that the whole election was rigged.

I know… ’cause I started those rumors.

As you know, I don’t like name-calling. But don’t let that stop all of you (my followers) from doing it!

In fact (according to Wikileaks), some of you already have taken to calling BOB (a former third rate hack from down in the basement) A MEDIA WHORE—their words not mine!

Bob, was a (basement cubical) employee of mine with some wealth (who probably embezzled most of my money), and an apprentice to an assistant apprentice, who was the apprentice to the head of my Media Department’s apprentice, who was in charge of promoting my blog as a guest on a show about apprentices’sss!

Consequently—because of this BOB guy—I now find myself being the former Commanding Editor and Chief of, In My Cluttered Attic.

The Independant

The Independant

You may recall in a post, which I wrote (several months back, that this BOB guy was trying to discredit me while I was away—in sunny San Diego… recovering from pneumonia.

Okay, so I turned up at Comic-Con in costume as Dr. Strange. I can’t explain how I got there—selective amnesia? But I ask you, knowing me as you all do, is that so strange?

Besides, I was there on business—I SWEAR!

But that’s not what’s important here. What’s important here is that while I was away one of my posts got hacked! Probably by some guy laying in a bed who weighed over 400 lbs—LIKE BOB!

You know what else, I’d be willing to bet that my former unscrupulous underling (BOB), may have had some extra added assistance from a little guy from the Russian government, who just so happens to be going bald.

Apparently BOB invited this little Russian guy into my blog’s offices while I was away.

Huffington Post

Huffington Post

I know this, because my former employees told me that the reason there was so much horse**** on the floor of my office, was because of a little balding Russian man (who wore no shirt and RODE A HORSE) yelling…

“Welcome to the new Russian Federation of blogs, comrades!”

Naturally my staff didn’t understand what comrade meant… because none of them speak Russian.

Meanwhile… way, way, way downstairs my more menial employees—chained to desks in tiny cubicles—were toiling away (night and day) to provide all of you with semi-quality content from this blog.

Dedicated employees, who were BEING MISLED BY BOB… and a tiny but, balding Russian minion.

I only wish I hadn’t been so sick with pneumonia… down in balmy San Diego… ON IMPORTANT BUSINESS.

Had I not been there, SLAVING AWAY, I might have been able to have prevented the devious machinations that were being hatched down in the boiler room, as I would have likely been up, up, up in my golden palatial penthouse tower—where my spies would have informed me.

I DON’T EVEN OWN A DR STRANGE COSTUME—HONEST!

And to think that my poor (former disgruntled) staff people was down there, having their ears tickled with pie crust promises by that evil BOB—and a small Russian minion of an assistant—all while I was out with pneumonia!

Oh its too much to bear. Had to be the fever, only explanation for my being at Comic-Con. I DON’T EVEN OWN A COMIC BOOK!

And that wicked old BOB, down there offering them jobs that paid (why this blog hasn’t paid anyone in years), and a new healthcare plan to boot!

I offered a health plan once, but it gradually became a shell of my original healthcare plan—dismantled piece-by-piece by my unscrupulous Human Resources Department!

That’s right, my very own despicable HR people rode BOB’s coattails to victory, too—and quite possibly on the same nag that that little shirtless, balding Russian dude rode in on. Now they’ll all likely find themselves located upstairs behind closed doors, somewhere in Russia.

My opponent even had the nerve to claim that my trip to recuperate from pneumonia (that’s my story and I’m sticking to it) was nothing more than a lame excuse to buy me more time, so that I might prepare myself for the debates over the issues of blog management.

Hand adding another brick to a wall made from colored blocks

These issues, however, never got discussed as BOB was way too busy calling me names. Names like, Little Paulo and Crooked Paulie, all the while babbling on about building some wall (which he claimed) would keep out aliens—no doubt, for when Mars attacks!

I just can’t explain how I lost this ridiculous election to some funny looking guy named BOB, especially when I have more followers than he does?

His followers are now asserting (with lots of unnecessary profanity) that being more popular is not the way to get elected, that you have to have more electors.

HUH?

Sounds to me like they’re just deflecting the truth by attempting to delegitimize my claim to blog ownership, while talking in circles boldly grabbing my power to do as they wish, in hopes of bringing down this shinning beacon of a blog to the vast world of WordPress readers.

Not only that, but they also want me to get over myself and just accept BOB as… the boss!

Well… I have news for all of them. I’m still here and there’s only one boss—AND HE’S BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN—so take that, BOB! Oh… and minion.

Open All Night

Open All Night