This is a rant about the GYM today....Psychiatric help anyone ??
When I started this BLOG it was going to be just an occasional humorous bit of artwork or animation...and my "Bench Bozo" was going to be JUST my Bench Press training--and never the twain shall meet....well, today some merging has taken place and gym stuff (irrational mumbling) has become today's Thorndike Pickledish talking bloggeroo---relapse and enjoy... 2 minutes of me ruminating over the rant that IS the masked gym whistler....
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5 comments:
very interesting story,as for the comment about him being with the russian mafia, you never know.just to be safe have someone else start your car for awhile
Brilliantly done monologue and animation, Maestro.
It's a bit like trying to start a fire at -20F below while the New Age Techno-Twice Born (the first time was a botch, so they had to do it over) sing yet another stanza of "Amazing Grace".
What has this do with Arthur Schopenhauer, the first apartment-dwelling philosopher?
A neighbor and dweller in the same apartment building had the nasty habit of talking loudly on the landing outside his door.
She was aged and frail, and, if old wives' tales are to be believed, very wise.
Finally Schopenhauer lost his temper and pushed her down a flight of stairs, then went back to the barbells.
Yes--I'm going to have my neighbor with the 24/7-- YAPPY dog-- start my car..
thanks..zaitsoff...that was a super funny remark...
as 'wrong as I sound during this dissertation --this guy really is off his 'cart' I'd better just try to go when he isn't there..or I may 'lose it' and impale myself on my own free membership.
HEY HOPALONG !!
great story--I must look up the FULL version of the Schopenhauer event--hah--such inspiration...I have noisy neighbors too--I wouldn't do the PUSHIN or Pushkin..but I had thought of small speakers with ear piercing CYCLE tones that would mysteriously go off in offending areas...making the chatters n' barkers run for cover--with mitts over heads.
For a brief while I lived in an apartment under a group of Jehovah's Witless or Seven Day Dice-rollers--I can't remember which.
They were very quiet all week, but on Sundays scores had their services in the apartment.
The wife was a pianist as well--piano on Sundays with hims and hers.
The husband was a nice enough fellow who tried to proselytize me once or twice until I pulled out a Greek New Testament and asked him for a dollar bill to illustrate a point.
The NT in Greek had no effect (it was Greek to him) but the dollar bill act seemed to spook him.
Guess that was a different direction than he tended to think of money in.
With most of the Twice Born I ask for twenty but he was going through hard times.
Anyway, the noise on Sundays continued all day, and no one dared complain.
Shows how persistence can pay off. I finally got religion.
I moved.
Far far away,jeje.
Whistling Boy will one day have his lights punched out if he's the kind of idiot who hides, then leaps out and assaults people with his pucker.
Really, what do you do with people like that? I don't think I could have shown the grace that you showed.
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