Four

My Big Question right now is if the Cosmic Jester is paying attention to this mudball in space.  Does he/she/it/they/ pestle/38165/@%**#**/!/?/ do anything at all to us/for/us/because of us?  We are a rather anonymous greedy, gruesome, garrulous group of being on a small planet on an undistinguished galactic arm in an ordinary spiral body of stars.  I think if the CJ did, our lives would be either better or worse than they are.  Right now everything on earth here seems pretty, well, random.

But still I am receiving messages everyday from somewhere.  Chainsaw Tuneups is a message I saw painted on the side of a building this morning.  Its terseness arrested my attention.  Chainsaw Tuneups.  I don't have a chainsaw and never have had one.  What if chainsaw in this context meant the daily leading of our lives.  Then mine could certainly use a tuneup.  I have had a lot of practice at daily living, but not yet have the knack of it.  What if chainsaw was a sexual term.  Do I have a chainsaw?  Well, maybe.  Does it need tuningup?  Well, maybe.  Maybe the tuneup is done with a chainsaw!!  Then I definitely don't need one and do not want the CJ to message me in that direction again.  Period.

Cakefetish.  This one could have been meant for me.  Though I am not a cake-lover per se, I do relish sweet eats.  Is this just a lame way of calling me fat?  But really, how could the CJ be so fatuous?  Duh!  Is it the first time he has noticed my avoirdupois?  Would the Great Seer in the 'Verse message me something so obvious?  I hope not.  Maybe in the case, it means something sexual (yes, here we go again).  I don't sleep with cake.  I don't rub cake all over my body.  I don't dream of cake.  But I do all of those with men.  Still way too obvious.  The message is meant for someone else and is being channeled through me.  So someone out there fess up!

This last message of the day is Headlight Restoration.  This was painted on a tire carcass outside of a beat up garage. My Toyota has four headlights and none needs restoring.  My old seafoam green Taurus had a broken blinker light, also a severely cracked windshield, a transmission that was about to become a stopmission.  Its heater didn't work, its windshield wipers were on the fritz, and the AC heated the car quite effectively, thank you very much.  So maybe this isn't about cars. 

A headlight could be a halo.  I don't think I could be accused of having a halo, but let me think here.  Is a sainthood in danger?  Is the sainthood of someone around me in danger?  Could someone around me once have had a halo, then lost it, and now that halo is going to be restored?  That must be it!  I will just have to wait to see who it is.

Over and out.

Headlight Restoration

Three

My S.O. says I have been having mood swings.  Okay, so I went off the meds three or four weeks ago.  So what.  So I have been seeing all these messages on cars for about ten days.  So what.  The messages have been there all along and I was ignoring them--because of the meds.  So now there is a clearing in my ears and mind.

First message today:  MHY--My Honey Yolanda.  Here comes Yolanda again.  She must be something significant to someone close to me.  Yo.   Lan.   Da.  And honey?  The first message was My God! Yolanda.  The attitude is changing, calming down and now she's a honey.  Something, sticky, sweet, and made by stinging bugs.

I saw the first message coming home from an errand this morning.  On that same trip I saw DSJ.  DSJ, very interesting.  DiSJoint.  With Thanksgiving coming, I think disjoint is a very logical message.  Disjointed families coming together, maybe to widen the disjunction.  Disjointing of the poor turkey.

And the most interesting sign of the day--FFF.  Today is/was a Martyr Day for me.  Are you asking, what is a martyr day?  It is a special day for a special person--one who is having such a bad day that she/he is feeling like a martyr for the world.  I rarely get to have them because other people around me seem to need them more (only one person within my scannings can be a martyr on any given day). 

            My reasons for my own Martyr Day?  1. The Doc reminded me that I had to take my meds.  2. I was cold since getting up in the wee hours and didn't get warm till midday.  3. I was informed by my pharmacy that the drugs my doctor ordered would cost $340 for a month and a half.  4. I got chocolate on my favorite shirt.  [I'm like the kid who wants to go to Australia to start over, but I'm afraid that if my body went then I would come along too.]  5. The TV was dumb.  6. My book fell apart when I dropped it.  7. The movie I was watching was stupid.  So FFF really is my interesting sign of the day.

A DiSJointed brain

A brain neatly combed and medicated

Two

The cat is restless.  It is a strange day.  Death, waiting, and ennui.

SVR--Sever or severe?  It was some type of van with the back loaded with boxes that went by me this morning.  Sever or severe?  I should have been more cognizant of the signs coming to me.

Next to SVR in the right lane was a bumper sticker that said "My mutt is smarter than your honor student."  Something about four-footers today.  First the cat is restless and then a message about a dog.  I was so taken with the mutt sign that I forgot to look at the license tag.

As I pulled into the driveway later I saw a car drive away from next door.  Its license place was from Chihuahua, Mexico.  Definitely a dog day.

It is still a strange day with one more man missing from this world.  RIP is the cosmic message I would choose today.

The restless cat, death creeping from the right.  What is the right thing to do?

      RIPD

One

Messages come at me all the time.  Everywhere I look I see more messages from the Cosmos that predict the future, explain the past, give me a quick smile, and sometimes a belly laugh.  I get messages about other people, messages I cannot decipher, messages that give advice. I need to share these messages--they could affect anyone out there.  You will need to read them to see.

MGY--found on a license plate on I-25 going north.  This immediately screamed at me, "My God, Yolanda!!
I don't know a Yolanda.  Is she the driver of the car?  The girlfriend of the driver?  Maybe I have it         punctuated it wrong (I do not believe there are all-powerful punctuation gods, though maybe there should be) and it is "My God Yolanda" with Yolanda being the name of Good in this case.  At any rate, I do not believe this message is for me.  So it might belong to you.

841L--That is eight, four, one, Ell.  It was on a truck heading south.  When I first glimpsed this I thought it said BAIL.  I think BAIL is the message.  Another sticky one.  I haven't needed to be bailed out of jail since that time in Tijuana during my college decade.  Maybe it refers to a boat.  Maybe it refers to my current life in which case bailing out would be welcome.  Please fax dollar bills to this blog!  Yes, this messageis definitely for me.

MST--Misty?  As in Play Misty for Me?  This message is for me, I am sure.  This was the license plate of my late, deceased, totaled car.  It was a sea green Taurus.  The whole license plate was MST1045.  Ah, now I get it.  Mountain Standard Time at 10:45--that must be in the morning or it would be tagged 2245.  It was at 10:45 that I got the message that the Taurus had died.  That was six months ago.  No wonder messages haunt me.  The Cosmic Jester must be screaming with derisive laughter now!

Is this Yolanda?  Does she need bail money?  Was she in the Taurus when it died?