MENTAL NOTE

Though we cannot make our sun stand still, yet we will make him run.
Blue, resist the urge to use facebook. You can do it. Good luck.
Cats and dogs can be friends. So can cowboys and indians. So can we.
Why try to be the best when there's no hierarchy in heaven?

Saturday, February 13, 2016

Guess Who Saved My Valentine Ass?

I'm not well-versed in controlling my urge to destroy anyone set to make my life a living hell. I'm not prone to forgiveness and I'd be a drunk CEO going off the rails if Hyperbole.com were an actual company. So how come I'm not in jail, you wonder? What is my secret? Well, let's say that if you need your butt saved like mine in the e.x.a.c.t. s.a.m.e. way, you would have to marry my wife, and I just can't allow that.

Friends and Valentine aficionados, if Mrs. Blue were a superhero, her name would be The Navigator. (Eat your heart out, Batfleck! Har!) In fact, that is her nickname, I kid you not. Not Sweet Poopy Doopy or My Little Lovy-Dovy. Not Tender Lambkin or Hot Mistress Dear. I don't call her Batfleck. I call her my Navigator. Of course, she's my mistress come Wednesday night (woof woof) unless I'm faking a headache (ouch), but for ten years my Navigator she has been. And why am I talking like Master Yodel: The Reboot?

Master Yodel is Strangely Naked. Didn't you know?
Let's face it, my navigating Valentine is about the only person around who can keep me from exploding like an old, undersized condom. She is, in many ways, the opposite of who I am, and it's a riddle some can't solve why she would be with me and vice versa. She is my beacon of calm, is why. Whenever co-workers are in cahoots for the umpteenth time and I'm about to lose it, here comes Mrs. Blue (music, Maestro!), and just one look at her is all it takes to remind me (breathe in) I shouldn't waste my precious life trying to prove the Politicians Posse — or pee pee — wrong (breathe out). You may know what that is like. I honestly hope you don't. One look at Mrs. Blue and I realize once anew that the consequences of my actions would affect her as much as they would affect me, so I'd better keep my cool and take a walk around the block like those New Kids in the 90's. Focus on the good stuff. Focus on the things that matter. Focus on the people you care about and who care about you. Don't be an idiot on a rampage. You're not Deadpool.

Well, I'm trying. I know, maybe I should try a bit harder, but it's hard to change when you're stubborn and blue. It's hard to tolerate individuals who relish the thought of stabbing you in the back like it's an achievement. It's like looking in the mirror and saying, 'You moron. Why didn't you throw them off a roof?' But when you're lucky like me, even if your batmobile keeps breaking down on you when your imaginary money tree is dead and gone, you know what is important and what is not. You know who matter and who really don't. You just need someone to remind you every once in a while — or, in my case, on an embarrassingly regular basis.

So, thank you, Navigator, for saving my blue butt for over a decade now. Thank you for keeping me on the right track to the best of my abilities. While I may be a bit slow in the let's-shed-some-light-on-your-own-life-for-a-change department, I've been secretly aware of this unrewarding full-time job of yours. I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm a grown man with Peter Pan issues who needs a smart and beautiful woman a decade his junior (Way the go, Blue! Yes, I know, fellas...) to keep himself out of trouble. That, my friends and Valentine fetishists alike, is no easy feat.

Who is your Navigator?

Happy Valentine

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Always listen to your navigator