The Reality Institute

Blog #2: Life is Blog, the rest is just Blogtails and Dirty Limericks.

There once was a boy who was named Blog,

who had a thing he could flog

but when he went to the dance

he seized into a trance

and the DJ thought he was a log.

When I grew up, these were the sorts of limericks my dad used to scream to me before going to sleep, or while I was already asleep. I asked him, “Hey!!!! Pops! Why do you always say those weird limericks when they’re so stupid and boring?!!” He replied in his quiet manner, “Mike! My deeeeer boy,” because he thought I was actually raised by deer, “I’ll answer that question with a limerick:

‘My boy it’s a family tradition,

like sledding, camping, or fishin’,

but you know me, son,

I like to have fun,

so limericks it is, (incoherent mumbling).”

So I guess that’s how I turned out without a clue in the world as to what the hell to do about anything and every time I tried to get a straight answer out of my folks they just spent more time concentrating on rhyming and rhythm then on their own son’s feelings.

But, hell, I’m still trying to make it in this world. Got me a website that I’m working on daily. Living in a landlocked South American country, the poorest in the continent. And constantly surrounded by unfamiliar faces, both faces I recognize and can barely comprehend.

You see, whilst some medical volunteers wander into my house off the streets and start asking me where an ATM is and where they can go to experience traditional Bolivian™ food, I’m trying to get me a Real™ website and job and find some way of making enough money to live off of for the next 65 years or so, while at the same time also trying to find a way to keep my friends and loved ones financially and emotionally secure. It’s a network you see, to take back reality, from once it once was to what it always is, something you can barely see.

Right now, I’m alone in a Bolivian™ house, but my parents are going to come back soon from the medical clinic, Centro Medico Humberto Parra, out in the country side and make some big time medical decisions about their small time, mom and pop, free medical clinic. I was the coordinator of the clinic once, but I never figured I was good at that sort of stuff and quit, to give the job over to someone else. I tended to get distracted by what the hell is happening to me all the time. But when life gives you medical volunteers, make free medical aid, I suppose. And I suppose that’s what my folks are doing.

So when life gives you websites and the internet and music and shit, whatever all of those things are, I did like my dad always says,

“There once was a boy who could mimic.

So that’s all that he did like some sort of gimmick.

He started a website

Without any foresight

And he ended up writing a bunch of limericks.”

My dad can be a real jerk sometime.

Well, if anyone besides Michael Molitch-Hou™ is reading this, please send in as many dirty limericks (or at least funny) as you can, because if it weren’t for dirty limericks there’d be no inappropriate uncles and if there weren’t inappropriate uncles, then every family get together would be as boring as a National Geographic with all those cute pets you can’t pet.

mike out!

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