Sweethearts? - A Special Valentine's Post About Cannibal Cupcakes

As my most ardent followers probably know, I am going to be attending KU this fall.

Rock Chalk!

My ardent followers also happen to know that I am single. ^_^ Ladies...

Yay Valentines! (I know Valentine's Day is over... sheesh! Judgmental much?)

How are these two things related???

They're not. Except that Mom-Lady has decided (for whatever reason) that I'm going to find my "sweetheart" at KU. I suppose she did drop out of business school as soon as she got her MRS.

But she did drop out to raise me and my nine wonderful(ish) siblings... This was quite a daunting task, you would agree, if you knew my siblings and me. (I'm not even the worst of us...)
Anywho, disregarding all of the above, this line of thought got me to thinking about the term "sweetheart."

What is a "sweetheart"? Why do we call people "sweethearts"? What does it mean when one has a "sweetheart"? Are "sweethearts" contagious? Does it have anything to do with blood sugar?
My thesis? Whatever a sweetheart might be, no matter how "nice" one might be, my cold, dead lump of coal is a far preferable thing.

My Heart

Back to the initial question: What exactly IS a sweetheart?

To discover the answer, let us examine the usage of the word. It is obviously a noun. It is something we can possess, e.g. "She is your sweetheart," "You are my sweetheart." It is also something we can be, e.g. "I am your sweetheart," "We are sweethearts." So, in a certain unpleasant sense, it's a bit like slavery. (That is, you can be a person but if you own a person they're a slave, and you can own a chocolate, but you can't be a chocolate... you following me? Something that you can both possess and be is akin to slavery...ish...)
Let's move on...

Now, if we look at the root words, "sweet" and "heart," we can see that we are discussing an internal organ that is pleasant to the senses. (Note that the word "sweet" need not only refer to taste, e.g. "sweet music," "sweet odor," or "sweet feeling.") It is obvious how someone could possess such a thing (though, wondering who tasted, smelled, or felt another's heart conjures up disturbing images of... well... their in your head now. You know what I'm talking about...)
Still, we are left with the question of how one person can BE another person's "sweetheart." How could one actually become a sensually pleasant organ for someone else???

O.o

Aaand... we all just thought of the answer to THAT question...

Let's move on...
As this is supposed to be a family friendly-ish blog, let's get out of the gutter and examine what you and I both know I meant.

I can't be someone else's heart anymore than someone else can be my heart. And, even it was possible, what makes this reverse-anthropomorphized heart sweet? You never hear someone accusing someone else of being their "bitterheart."
That would be fun though... to be bitterhearts with someone. ^_^ Aww... delicious, mutual malevolence. Makes me think of my relationship with Satchel.

But, where were we?
Oh, yes.
Dissecting sweethearts.

Obviously, as shown in the discussion above, we cannot take the term "sweetheart" literally. If we do we end up with all sorts of crazy things like little sugary people replacing our blood pumps. Ludicrous.

So we must assume that the term in question is, in fact, a metaphor of some kind. Could it perhaps be that we are saying this person is what makes our heart sweet? Like they somehow metaphorically take otherwise normal hearts and coat them in sugar and sprinkles like some cannibalistic cupcake?

I'm going to assume that's it.
A "sweetheart" makes another person's otherwise normal heart less of a selfish bit of meanness, and more of a other-centric lovey-dovey "I'mma buy you chocolate and flowers" kind of a blob.

...

And we're back to slavery, it seems.
Still, with this understanding, I have to conclude that Mom-Lady is, in point of fact, very wrong. I will not find my sweetheart at KU. I am incapable of having a sweetheart because I have no heart. No one on this earth can make sweet my cold, dead lump of coal.

Yay, Soulless freaks! :D

Ciao.
~Rafe
P.S.
Go do some evil. ;)

I Scared Her ^_^ It Was Fun - plus whatever I ramble on about...

I scared a woman at Target the other day. (No, not THAT day... the other day.)


'Cause I'm creepy like that. >:)


I'll bet you're wondering what happened?


So is Queenie... I told her about it, but not really. I told her that I scared someone, and that she would have to read my blog to find out more. -_- I love to tease.


Okay, so let me see if I can tell it funnily.


First of all, I was out with Queenie and Mom-Lady doing some last minute Christmas shopping. (It was the 23^rd day of our favorite month with Christmas in it.) That's approximately two days before our favorite day with Christmas on it.


Yay, Christmas!

Festive, isn't it?

Ah... don't you love it when bloggers begin a post BEFORE Christmas, and then don't go trying to finish it until almost three weeks later? Me too.

Yay laziness!

Okay, back to my story.

I was Christmas shopping at Target. 

Whilst I was engaged in this activity, I was wearing a very special shirt. Let me explain...

I have back problems. I hunch, and have a bit of scoliosis. (Scoliosis is like deadly back breakage, only less so... it's actually more like a curvy spine... my spine's not straight... no, it's not gay either. Sheesh.) Because of this I sometimes wear an uncomfortable, white shirt under my comfortable, non-white shirt. The uncomfortable, white shirt is very tight, and pulls on my shoulders, and rides up in my armpits. It's supposed to help me stand up straighter. (Leave to doctors to find a way to make uncomfortable underwear "healing.")

Meanwhile, back in the story I'm telling, I was looking at hats. I showed a particularly cool cat to Queenie. She said I looked creepy. (Not sure if that was intended as a compliment or an insult...)

Then Queenie left.

I walked to the edge of the hat aisle, and stood, staring off into space with my face pointed in the general direction of the people walking by in the main aisle. I wasn't going anywhere, because I was busy trying to pull my uncomfortable, white shirt out of my armpits a bit. (Of course, I was doing it so no one would notice... 'cause I'm smooth like that.)

As I was doing this a pretty young lady walked by. I saw her, she saw me. I saw her see me, and she saw me see her. I saw her see me see her, and she saw me see her see me. I saw... etc. ad infinitum.

I didn't really take note of her.

BUT (and this is an important "but") she must have taken note of me. (Keep in mind, I am ravishingly good looking... women can't help but notice me... remember the She-Cop?) Also, I finished suavely picking my pits just as she walked past me. So I stepped out into the main aisle, and proceeded to look for where Queenie went.

Coincidentally, I had stepped out into the main aisle with the pretty young lady just about ten paces ahead of me.


So, to recap, here's the situation:
I look creepy (according to Queenie, anyway). I (while staring off into space) seemingly leer at a pretty young woman as she walks by. She notices me. I fall into step just a few paces behind her... as if... (dare I say it?) ...following her! >:D

Jaws music begins... NOW!

That's when I noticed her glance over her shoulder... at me.

Duuuuh.... dum.

I don't think she was checking me out.


She started walking faster.


She glanced over at me again.


She started walking even faster!


By this time I was grinning. (Probably didn't help my trustworthiness factor...)

"Do you wanna know how I got these scars???"

The next thing I know, she's darted around the corner and is running off into the towels, pillows, and pillow pets section.


Despite the overwhelming urge to follow her, I don't want anyone to call the police. So I stroll along my merry way, never to see the pretty, albeit scared witless, girl again.


>:) I hope I haunt her nightmares...


That is all. ^_^


...Ish.


I do have one request.


If you happen to be the girl I scared... respond to this blog. :D I'm not really a creeper (sometimes...)


Anywhosist... ciao.


And, as always, go do some evil!
~Rafe


P.S. Queenie got me the hat I admired for Christmas. Yay, life! 

Christmas Eve Book Promo - or - Books That Should Really be Written

The book:
Life Beyond the Internet

-The tragic true story of a man, Dan de Manson, who left the safety of virtual reality to abscond into nature.

Concerning de Manson:
 
"Why did he leave? Facebook can offer us everything we will ever need... except nutrition, oxygen, and hydration." ~Bob Dutch

"Nature? He wanted 'Nature'? He could have Googled 'Nature'" ~Samantha Fae Argyle

"YouTube has double rainbows... All the way across the sky! Does nature have double rainbows all the way across the sky? I think not." ~Alan Pinkerton

A single tear-shedding emoticon for those lost. :'(

~Rafe

P.S.
I'd buy that book... if it existed. :\

P.P.S.
Merry Christmas! :D

"A Modest Tribute" aka The Poem I Wrote, Lost, Subsequently Found and Ultimately Forgot the Meaning Of

So I cleaned my room this morning... EARLY.

I haven't even gone to sleep yet, and it's 3:18 AM.

I finished cleaning my room maybe an hour ago. :\

Anywho... the point is this:

Whilst throwing away trash I stumbled on a piece of paper with a poem I wrote who-knows-how-long ago.

My room was dirty. :\

Anywhosits, I've decided to share the poem I wrote, lost, and subsequently found with you. (I'm leaving all the grammar, punctuation and capitalization exactly how I found them. Some of it's kind of weird... so... sic!)

Here 'tis:

A modest tribute in a thousand words

could utter we

To the flowing of the faerie's sigh

Wishing we could see

What heaven hath brought with Michael's name

A conqueror of Smiles

A lover's game

From Something past to something more

With someone laughing

And Someone's war

Shall be to see what they can make

Of this and that

of give and take.

Yeah... I don't get it either. :\

If it ever meant anything--a claim I cannot swear to--I have forgotten it entirely.

So, really, this is the question: What does it mean to YOU?

Comment and tell me. ^_^

(Yes, I know this one is a quickie... but I had naught else to brighten your day with at this very early moment.)

So, Ciao!

And, as per my usual request, go do some evil!

~Rafe

Life Updates - Who is With Whom and Who's Having Whose Baby - P.S. Mr. Weirdman

Note the proper uses of "Who," "Whom," "Who's," and "Whose." -_- (This will be really embarrassing if I used one of them wrong...)

So, this post is just an update on some of the peeps I mention a lot in my blog. Just so you know what's going on in their lives... and so I can mock them. :D

To begin with, my most ardent follower, Satchel.

Satchel, as you know, is married to Sheriff Woody, and they have three sons, Jose, Jimp, and Lex. As you also know (if you read my posts) Satchel and Woody are expecting another baby.

A "Baby Boulder" is like a "Baby Bump" ... only... BIGGER ... but iz a cute kind of "BIGGER"

The new baby will be the fourth minion from Satchel Minions, Inc. Will technically be my fifth minion though. Mr. Wilson (not previously blogged about) was my first true minion, but I haven't heard from him for a while.

Jamaal (the diminutive one... remember?) is about ready to marry Chief (who is, incidentally, Mr. Wilson's uncle).

I'm fairly certain he'll actually wear a tux on the day of.

Queenie cut her hair, dyed it, and is forcing me to watch My Little Ponies: Friendship is Magic.

She's actually rather intimidating when she wants to be...

Honestly, I would never have even considered watching Ponies if it weren't for the unending blah-blahing that Queenie is capable of.

I'm proud to say I've lived through a few episodes. o.O No one can ever accuse me of not being open anyway...

So that's where they stand right now.


Have you ever met a Mr. Weirdman???
(Smooth segue, eh?)

It's that one guy with an obnoxious mustache (or a mullet) and ball cap who rambles on and on about everything and nothing whilst making strange faces and leaving you no recourse but to nod and say "uhuh."
Mr. Weirdman either the life of the party or the bane of the...other party... :\

He's the guy that brings a gun to a tornado.

True fact.

It was a stormy afternoon not too many months ago when we were on our porch watching the weather (as Kansans are wont to do) and our neighbor came over. He was wearing shorts, no shoes, a T-shirt, a ball cap and... a holster? He held a beer in one hand, and a revolver in the other.

He was the mullet kind of Weirdman

"Here," He handed Evic his beer, "Hold this while I load."

The End! :D

(Don't you hate it when writers bring the story to the first interesting instance and then... stop?)

Mr. Weirdmans are everywhere.

Watch out for them.

Now... go do some evil. -_-

Ciao!

~Rafe