Another Missive titled "Dear Friends,"

Yup - it happened again.

If you use a feed reader you will have seen two empty posts titled "Dear Friends" (one referring to a PDF file - that was not present here on FOF), and a second talking about how "you know the drill". A few of you may have even received an email WITH the attachment. Regardless, I feel I need to explain.

Once again have been victimized by a slightly moderately severely disturbed co-worker who is hell bent to try and convince you of my insanity. This time, the suspect created (ahead of time) a PDF file with the text and photos you see below.

Ignoring (for a moment) the insane ramblings, and inane archaic references to bizarre historical "pop culture" events - The fact that this suspect would go to such lengths (building a PDF ahead of time and keeping it "in wait" till the opportunity presented itself) is frightening enough, but when you add the creative disturbing text along with how much work they put into getting these "Missives" out - it is just frightening.

No wonder the therapist refused to see this person anymore. There are some very disturbing areas of this brain that are better left undisturbed. The world will be a better place.

Sit back, and enjoy.


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Dear Friends,

I am compelled to make some corrections / additions to my blog.

Some time ago, while thinking of a name or title for my blog - no matter how long and hard I thought - I could not come up with a good portmanteau. "Blog" is short and to the point. Everyone who has any semblance of conciousness knows what a blog is. "Spork" – saves money and resources by combining a spoon and a fork – especially handy for eating salads. I had tried "Fathive", "Lifherive", Thifetherive" . . . nothing would work.

Try something else, then.

Unfortunately, "It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World" was already being used so, I would plagiarize another's graphics and enter my own title:

"The Life of a Father of Five" aka . . . "Chaos in Paradise"

Ha! More words! More chances at getting hits on the search engines!

Pity the other blogs with shorter names, thus, not as well-known as mine:

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FOF Observation #6

"After all, who really sees the bottom of your shoes anyway? . . . Hey, come-on... They are comfortable if nothing else!!"
Father of Five . . . . (ME!)

It has been brought to my attention than my shoes are in need of some minor repair. I have been warned if I do not tend to them immediately; my old shoes will be forcibly removed and replaced by a new pair of Nike tennis shoes. The shoes are the "Marshall Applewhite" model of Nike, which is from the "Heavens Gate" collection.

I looked them up on Ebay:
- "39 pair of Nike tennis shoes - Like New - Worn Only Once"
- "Free UFOlogical Study Guide DVD With Each Pair Sold! "
- "Free Phenobarbital/Vodka Drink Mix "
(and wait, there's more . . . . )
- "Free Head-Sized Plastic Bag!"
- "Free armband – "Heaven's Gate Away Team""
Next-Day air shipment from Rancho Santa Fe, CA is available.
That sounds like quite the deal, and, who wouldn't mind co-workers using force to replace one's worn footwear? I mean, who am I to resist if I were to be "punished" for being a dirty, nasty boy?

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I don't know how to title this post.

It's either "The End of an Era" or "Man, do I feel Old".
You see, I heard today that Kevin DuBrow (former lead Singer of Quiet Riot) died today.
(AP News Article)

Well then, I have to choose another band to replace Quiet Riot.
Hmmmm . . . . let me think . . . zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz Got it!

Porcupine Tree used audio samples taken from Applewhite's video message for the song "Last Chance to Evacuate Earth Before it is Recycled" which appears on the bands album, Lightbulb Sun.

If you fall asleep with me
You can dream and drowse
The minutes turn to hours

We could climb a tree or two
And watch the sun go down
Upon our sleepy town

After all the time I spent with you
Summer went away
And we just weren't the same

It's just you and me alone
Not grown ups but not kids
You kissed me on the lips

Last Chance to Evacuate Planet Earth Before It Is Recycled
la la la la la laaaa la allalalalalaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

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Sleep Depravation

By the time I go to bed tonight (Tuesday - Hopefully around 9 or 10 pm) I will have had
a grand total of 14 hours of sleep since Friday morning.

de·prave - Pronunciation [di-preyv]
– verb (used with object), -praved, -prav·ing.
1. to make morally bad or evil; vitiate; corrupt.
2. Obsolete . to defame.

- noun
moral perversion; impairment of virtue and moral principles; "the luxury and corruption among the upper classes"; "moral degeneracy followed intellectual degeneration"; "its brothels, its opium parlors, its depravity"; "Rome had fallen into moral putrefaction" [syn: corruption]
WordNet® 3.0, © 2006 by Princeton University.

Okay, next post will be about deprivation – you all know I am depraved and somewhat morally putrefied.

I so much enjoyed that song above, as it speaks of sleep and dreams. Oh, to sleep and dream . . .

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Why can't someone find a use for my old shoes? Maybe some type of doorstop, emergency birth control device or temporary housing for vermin? – There has to be some way to reuse them. I am very concerned about my carbon footprint and greenhouse gas discharge; hopefully I will succeed in a twenty-percent reduction this year alone! I went to the very helpful website and found several things I could implement immediately.

1. Reduce intake of cabbage, legumes and egg products
No more cabbage borscht
No more eating an entire 84 oz can of Van Decamps Beans
No more pickled eggs

2. Eliminate rumination
No more regurgitating food for a second, third or fourth "chew"
No more belching methane
No more pies (less evacuating ON the earth)

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Does this make me less interesting by conforming? Will I become dull, bland, listless . . . Sounds like my life needs a bit more cowBELL! What is missing in my life? The ART BELL radio show.

How I long for his caller's UFO abduction stories, the tales of cattle mutilations and other barnyard tales.

True, Ron & Fez show is a worthy replacement for Art, but something is still missing.

I believe it is the way in which I listen, not what I am hearing.

For example, when I would listen to Art Bell, late at night, under the covers with my Ray-O-Vac 2D-cell flashlight, I was in my own world. I would leave just enough opening in the covers over my head so I wouldn't pass out from hypercapnia.

At night, with a sandwich-size ziplock baggie containing Keebler crackers, a can of Hawaiian Punch at my side and my trusty transistorized AM radio, I was in bed heaven.

I would wait until my wife was asleep, then ever so slowly, ease the mono earpiece from it's coil around my transistorized friend. After cleaning out the offending earwax onto my wife's pillow, I would push the phone into my ear, turn on the radio eager to hear Art's show. Sometimes, the tuning control would inadvertently move to another station, making me guess how far and which way to turn the dial. On rare occasions, I would need help from Mr. Shine (my trusty Ray-O-Vac flashlight) to find Art's show.

With the covers now over my head, my breathing vent adjusted and in my Star Wars Boba Fett jammies, I could nibble away at my Keebler's while Art would inform me of the past, present and pending UFO conspiracies. It was so much fun in my safe place!

All those late nights have taken their toll on my sleep pattern. Now, I lay awake at night, staring at the ceiling, breathing fresh air, stereo headphones on, listening to 32k MP3 music for hours.

Sadly, now, the music numbs me rather than to inform, the fresh air keeps my organs alive and functioning well, the stereo phone keeps me from hearing approaching danger, Mr Shine - damaged beyond repair long ago from leaking zinc-carbon batteries. I miss my nighttime snacks. I miss the man on the Hawaiian Punch can. Now, packaged in plastic, with some label showing pictures of fruit . . . big deal, I want the punch-guy back!

I have lost a part of myself. (Usually I lose my keys, wallet and checkbook) I have lost that "safe" feeling. (My wife told me if I ever, ever went under the covers, spill-pop-and-get-cracker-crumbs-in-the-bed again! - I would beg and pray for a quick and painless death.)

The other day, I found my transistorized friend inside the bottom dresser drawer, wrapped in the Erik Estrada CHiP's throw blanket. No battery, so I took one from the kid's room smoke detector. Turning it on all I could find was "CCO – 830" and a horrific squealing / squawking noise. No matter where I tuned, all that would come through the speaker was this awful sound! I thought to myself, "There is NO way Ann Coulter can be on EVERY station!"

Sadly, I can no longer listen. With the intercom system, cordless phones, computers, video game consoles, handheld video games, handheld personal massagers and constant irradiation from my neighbor's WIFI network, my radio . . . my transistorized AM radio. . . my friend, is useless.

The torch has passed . . . that special thing you treasured . . . replaced by IC's and MP3's, PDA's and PTO's, DVD's, STD's . . . pass the peas.



  1. Hey David – this is some wild stuff here. Did you know that modern decaffeinated coffees are still quite robust and virtually indistinguishable from their jitter-inducing counterparts? ;-) I consulted my favorite anagram generatorto help solve at least one of your problems, but it didn’t come up with anything for “Father of Five.” I was, however, able to rearrange the letters in your name to “Ivan Middle.” You’re welcome! Good luck with the rest of your work week.

  2. You are such a good man to take these e-mails with a grain of salt....
    Myself, I think I would need to Address the security issues of my woRKplace computer, for both persoNal and profEssional rEasons. This person coulD be doing Some dAmage and you don't even know it! His OBvious creativity is Both amusing and disturbing in the same. You are way more tolerant that I!

  3. I have no idea what this person is talking about.


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