BBs Blog

Lately, I have been pondering how to keep a healthy mental balance in a world that seems filled with violence and cruelty of the worst kind. The answer for me turned out to be rather simple. I have to look for, and be able to see and appreciate all the beauty and kindness there also is in this world. This is especially true for me when it comes to my wandering around on the net. Unfortunately the world wide web is filled with people whose only ambition in life seems to be making life as miserable as possible for others. Trolls, are what this article I read called a certain group of these people. And trolls is a perfect description for this group of sad souls.

I’m choosing to stay away from the trolls of the net, read the important news whether it’s good or bad, and see if there is any way I can make even a tiny bit of positive difference concerning some of the bad news. I also spend a portion of each day finding beauty and kindness in the physical world around me, as well as the online world when I’m wandering around in it. Both of these worlds are filled an abundance of beauty, grace, charm, and human kindness.

Am I sounding like a bit of a Pollyanna here? Probably. But, in my humble opinion, the world needs as many Pollyanna type people in it as possible right now. I suppose in a way I’m not being completely like the young girl who actively confronts the bitterness in the town she is forced to go and live in with her aunt. I am instead choosing to avoid the places on the net that are heavily infested with trolls. However, in my own peculiar way I am opposing the effects of what they do by finding as much humor, beauty and human kindness as I can in the physical and online world, then sharing that humor, beauty and human kindness with as many other people as I can through my Musings From The Bottle website, as well as my Stumble Upon pages.

Sharing ourselves with each other is what helps keep the milk of human kindness flowing. I refuse to let the trolls and other nefarious people on the net take that ability to share completely away from me with their cruel games. I’ve been sharing bits and pieces of my life, and myself for a long time now. I started doing that when I began writing for the local papers. When the jawbone of the moral majority rose up and smote me for sharing some of my life in a way they didn’t like, I turned to the world wide web to continue with that sharing. And as long as my fingers are capable of typing the thoughts that run through my brain, I will continue that sharing. I will not “get over myself” to the point I can sit back and ignore cruelty of the worst kind going on around me because if I do that, then I have become as cold hearted and callous as the people instigating that cruelty.

The one thing that I realized from reading that article about trolls is that they are even more sensitive and susceptible to negative comments than the people they think they are superior too. Proof of this lays within the fact that those who are brave enough to speak out against them, are often hit hardest by them. While they tell the rest of the human race to “get over ourselves” and learn to live with life being filled with their kind of cruelty, they can’t “get over themselves” enough to follow their own advice. Which just goes to prove that trolls are even bigger hypocrites than the people they feel so superior to.

Am I taking a chance on becoming a target of the trolls by saying what I have? Maybe so. But, if I am targeted then it will only prove that my words are golden, and all their words concerning “getting over ourselves” are nothing but lead based hypocrisy. After all, if they can’t take some of the same heat from one little old blonde lady that they dish out to others without striking back, then how can they really be so superior to the people they deem weak? And I if I am targeted, then I guess as much I do not want to score any points in their vicious games, it will be me who truly scores the lulz, in this instance.

In the Wizard of Oz, it was the Wizard who was hiding in the booth. In the opening ceremonies of the 2008 Olympics in Beijing, it was the little girl actually singing, we were suppose to pay no attention to. Personally, I would love to kick the butts of the idiots who deemed the little girl whose voice actually sang their beloved “Ode to the Motherland” song not cute enough to be seen, so hard their noses bleed for the harm they have done to the self esteem of young girls everywhere. Dove’s Self Esteem Fund and the Girl Scouts Uniquely Me Program are going to have to work overtime now in their efforts to help young girls feel good about themselves after the effects of that disgraceful lip syncing fiasco. No, it isn’t just going to effect the self esteem of young girls in China. The message the Chinese officials sent when they cooked up that lip syncing fiasco will be read loud and clear by any young girl who hears or reads about it.

Basically, what the Chinese officials who cooked up that lip syncing fiasco are saying is, “We don’t care if you have the voice of an angel. Unless you are so cute the mere sight of you sends the warm and fuzzies coursing through people the moment they lay eyes on you, you are not fit to be seen, only heard. Now get in the booth, and sing like an angel.”

Well I have a message I would like to send to those Chinese officials, and anyone else who worships cuteness and beauty that much. Cuteness doesn’t last forever, but true talent always leaves its mark on the world. Beauty fades, but the glow true talent leaves behind even after the truly talented person is long dead, lives on for generations.

It was grocery shopping day, and I was feeling too lazy to bother with make-up or fixing my hair.  I pulled my badly in need of a root touch up and trim hair into the world’s shortest pony tail, slapped my shades on, and called it good.  I had been thoughtful enough to put on one of my groovy little, no matter how flat chested you are this will give you cleavage, wonder bras, and a tight fitting, gathered down the sides v-neck grey t-shirt.  The only thing tighter fitting than the wonder bra and t-shirt, were the “Was she poured into those jeans?”   Now even with the skin hugging attire I was wearing, I didn’t expect to get any second looks as I went about my shopping.

It really made my day when as I was standing in the bread aisle, I glanced up and discovered a dude actually staring at what passes for cleavage with me.  When he saw I had caught him staring at said cleavage, he gave a guilty start and got a look on his face that clearly said, “Oh boy, is she going to be pissed off now.”  The look on his face was priceless when instead of giving him the dirty look he expected, I positively beamed at him.  We both went away smiling from that encounter.

And if anyone is thinking about emailing me and expressing outrage that I could beam instead of bitch about having what passes for cleavage with me ogled, don’t bother because not even for the Sisterhood am I burning my wonder bras.

Texas Star

Later that evening I was expanding my horizons and enlightening my mind when I came across a story about a very rare fungus plant that until now, had only been found in two places on earth.  Because of the way my horror loving little mind works, normally when I think of fungus, I envision some icky green fuzzy stuff slowly creeping over the couch potato as he sits drinking from the beer can that contained the spore of said icky green fuzzy stuff.  Or, I see visions of huge red blobs that were not dropped in Antarctica in a timely manner, covering women, children, houses and villages.  Yes I read way too much Stephen King, watch far too many horror movies, and listen to Alice’s Restaurant a little too often.  But, that’s not the point here.  My point in writing about this rare species of mushroom known as The Devil’s Cigar, or Texas Star, stems from the fact that upon clicking on the link to that story, I was immediately struck by the simple beauty of this rare plant.  I had no idea such a pretty little fungus plant existed in our world.  I just hope it continues to grow and even flourish in the three places it calls home now. It would be a shame if we did lose a plant of such simple beauty.

And speaking of Mother Nature’s beauty, the next day I once more ran across this link, FALL AT BUTCHART GARDENS, VICTORIA, B. C., CANADA.  I’ve seen that link several times before on various RSS feeds and social bookmarking sites, but since it was summer, hadn’t bothered clicking on it.  This time, something urged me to follow that link.  I am so glad I did because I saw some of the most stunning photos of Mother Nature in all her fall glory I have ever seen.  And I discovered Fall is so NOT just the shades of reds, yellows and oranges I have always thought of it as.

Isn’t is a wonderful world we live in? In this wonderful world there are such things as gel filled wonder bras for us gals the Goddess was more than a little stingy with when it came to boobage, and a cool place called the internet where one can find pictures and stories that show us what the true beauty of Mother Nature is really all about.

Ohio inmate says he’s too fat for execution

A death row inmate scheduled for execution says he’s too fat to be put to death, claiming executioners would have trouble finding his veins and that his weight could diminish the effectiveness of one of the lethal injection drugs. more

It never ceases to amaze me how some of these big tough men on death row start crying like babies and trying to get out of their deaths when justice finally catches up with them. And I can’t help but wonder after reading this story just how excruciating the deaths of the two women he raped and murdered were? I have a simple solution to this problem though. The prison system can just put the condemned prisoners on a healthy diet to begin with, see to it they get plenty of exercise, then, when it comes time for justice to truly be served, they can’t bitch about being not in good enough shape to execute.

Nothing to shout about: Lulus wrinkly knees reveal her real age

My first reaction upon seeing this story was to shuck the jeans I had on, and frantically rub some Jergens skin firming lotion on my knees.  Then I came to my senses and realized that in the grand scheme of things, wrinkly knees were not that big of deal.  So what if by the time I am 59 my knees make raisins look smooth.  At this point I’m a lot more worried about the shape my mind is going to be in, than how my knees are going to look.  The way I figure it, as long as my mind is still sharp, I can devise devious and perverted ways of taking a man’s mind off my wrinkly knees if I want to.  After all, how many men are really going to complain about the wrinkles in your knees, if you are down on them in front of him?