Lone Watie

Yikes! My Circadians are Showing

Yup. Circadians. Though at this moment this word shows as misspelled, I know its just an ignorant dictionary at best. No, its not a pornographic thing...and it has NOTHING to do with Canadians, though both can be annoying.

These babies control, or are associated with, biological phases and/or cycles we go through throughout the day/night--perhaps even over greater spans (month[s]/year[s]); Sleep/wake rhythms, eating/fasting, diurnal functions, and changes of body temperature and activity, etc., over time. Given humans and other mammals strive for stability and Ho-Hum homeostasis , with our routine lives, these circadians remain fairly intact, maintaining that boring, yet stable, existence. It is actually good for you to maintain the banality of everyday existence, believe it or not.

One common phenomenon in recent ages--so-called 'jet-lag'--is illustrative of disrupted circadians. Although not really well-understood, rapid changes in longitude are associated with myriad disruptions in various homeostatic processes, with accompanying symptoms (nasties). Another is fucking up your sleep/wake cycle by staying up all night diddling on the computer, endlessly trying to discover whatever the hell it was that got you started on your journey into cyberspace...

Ya. Guilty. Another time-loss thing? Probably. Maybe related to alien abduction? no. (lol) Anyways, YOU know...
Next day[s], one is out-of-synch with the rest of the known universe, and sleeping at times which are [normally] associated with actually getting something done. REM sleep disturbances, etc., are characteristic, and one loses touch with one's normal contacts and activities. In my case, probably not doing what might have been planned to probably do...maybe.

What a slacker. (yes, me) Oh well, I guess it gives me one more excuse for not doing shit, though I probably don't really need another. "Aww...Sorry, but my circadians are all fracked up, and I spaced that out...". Too bad it [that foregoing] doesn't work on my own endeavors and plans... Gonna really have to puuuush to get shit done today.

May your circadians be aligned to your day, and your homeostasis be true--mine will be soon enuff.

GT

Coffee Dude

Ahhh. Finally. Man, I thought that pot was never gonna fin brewing. I dunno 'bout youse, but it's usually reheat first thing, followed by 'the good stuff' when it finally gets done. The aroma is awesome, the taste--divine. What IS it about coffee that is just so compelling? I have no clue. However, without a balanced breakfast of java and cigarettes, survival throughout the day may not be a 'given'. It's my 'go' juice--helps me get going, and stay going, especially on those 'busy' or hectic days.

Pharmacologically speaking, it's main active ingredient, caffeine, is a sympathomimetic. Ya, it excites, and also modulates the action of other neurotransmitters and quite a few exogenous chemicals and drugs--a system-wide kick in the pants. Although it has had bad rap in past, health-wise, the truth is its a fairly mild excitatory effect, with few side effects, and many beneficial actions. Coffee-based, at least. Probably its most beneficial aspect is the anti-oxidant capacity coffee has on all those free-radicals haunting our aging brains (leading cause of  neuro-degenerative disorders, etc.). Coffee has been shown to be up to 25x more potent than other foods and drinks touted as anti-oxidants...</pharmacology>

Anyways, I don't drink it because of that shit--I just love it. Back in my 'Lab' days, one would be challenged to find me without a (large) cup attached. Coulda grafted my skin around that thing, and nobody would have even noticed.  ;) lol. Sure helped get me through some grueling, late-night experiments.

Apparently, its also a social lubricant. People can get together and drink/yak, yak/drink, damn near all day. I especially like it first thing around a campfire; fire may not even get rekindled without the prospect and promise of a cup of joe, on a cold morning. Ever staple a filter around some and cook it like tea in the camp pot? I have--Smell will bring peeps outta their tents, for sure (lol).

Ya, I guess you *could* say I'm a coffee dude...probably always will be...enjoy!
GT

Advertising slogans we'd like to see

The 'other day', I purchased a new (ya, cheepy) toaster and coffee maker to replace the aging workhorses in my kitchen 'stable'. The old ones had their ideosyncracies; you know, over time you begin to comprehend just the right settings to toast, etc. The old toaster was a 4-slicer that was missing both of the push-down handles (where they disappeared to, I have no idear), and was semi-melted on one of the adjuster slides. Coffee pot was decent, but I had somehow knocked the carafe off the coffee maker, when a shelf felled a bunch of crap. Tell you the truth, I had no qualms with that (relatively new) coffee maker, plus, it had any/all features I would use.

Anyways, I setup these newb tools, and encountered the agony of cheesiness. The toaster burnt everything I fed it, unless it was turned almost off, and the coffee maker was virtually un-pourable, save for the most slow and adept of pouring. I got to thinking--maybe they needed to put some different 'slogans' or marketing tools on the box, so that one could savor the daily hassles to come:
**Coffee Maker: "Now with easy-spill carafe" or maybe, "Reservoir-filling challenge game built in to help develop patience and shoulder muscles!" and "Stays on ALL day to get that burnt-coffee taste you crave" or perhaps, "great for people who don't like coffee".

**Toaster: "Now burns every size and shape of bread or pastry more evenly", or "Built-in toaster-challenge adjuster--bet you can't get it right", or maybe "Dogs love it". Mayhap an advisory  like "caution: fire hazard--do not leave toaster unattended at any time + not recommended for anyone who can't stand over the toaster to watch it at ALL TIMES". Perhaps a disclaimer: "If your setting is too high, some discoloration of food may occur. However, it's not 'burnt', its just well-browned (one of Gma's old sayings). I thought an additional tool would be well-advised for inclusion, in-box (some kind of after-burn scraper).

So, anyways, I can't bitch too much; these two items together cost me only about $16 and change, and a few slices of unusable bread, thusfar. However, the daily hassle stress alone may push me past the brink of madness a bit sooner than I would like...What's that? What do you mean, 'you get what you pay for'? Lol.

The Fridge Monster

Yes. The Fridge Monster. I am sure you all know what I mean, though it often ignored--a subject better left for evenings spent crouching around a campfire. Personally, I have come to know and respect my own monster, and yes, I do indeed tend to its care and feeding. However, at times, its appetite can become enormous. I have to make a conscious effort to limit its intake, lest it consume everything in my foodstuffs pantry.

It is a wasteful consumer--a 'pig' as it were. I feed it everything that I can't consume myself in one sitting, which normally is most of what was prepared initially. These so-called "leftovers" are shamefully gobbled up by TFM, many never to be seen again. On occasion, I force it to regurgitate a prior feeding, that I might share in the gluttony. Usually, I return it once more to its designated spot in the front-shelf area. The digestion process of TFM is excruciatingly slow, however, so one must be careful not to remove previous feedings until TFM has had a chance to  move it to the 'back-shelf' area. There, the real digestion occurs,and seemingly, at a more rapid rate.

My FM is not picky; it usually eats just about anything that I do. However, funny how it seems to prefer that which I dislike the most, have tired of, or foods that I rarely remember are available; fresh fruits and veggies are its favorites! (geez, WHY do I even buy them??) Man, you should see what it can do to a head (or bag) of lettuce . Sure as Hell is hot, almost over night that bastard will have made short work of it, turning it into a glob of brown mush (a sign that it is time to remove it from the belly of the beast). 'He' ('She'?) also loves anything in opaque food containers, for some reason. Who knows what that was, before TFM got a hold of it? [if you can't see it, it's not there] Soups, casseroles, and pastas seem to be favorites also.

On the other hand, TFM seems to abhor so-called 'goodies'. Things like pudding, cakes, pies, and sweet or fatty things just don't ever make it to the back shelf, for some odd reason. Statistically, things placed in the door also seem to have a lower potential for digestion, unless they are on the bottom. Apparently, things fed in jars, and pickled goods, are rarely consumed by my FM. However, it can, and does, happen.

Proper care of TFM requires that owners go through the 'back shelf' area at least once/year--bi-annually is preferred, but quarterly may be too often. At that time, one should remove any items showing signs of completed digestion: molds, funk, and horrid smelling goo are the apparent sign that TFM has been sated. Don't even bother looking inside those opaque containers--rest assured, if its at the back shelf area, its a goner. Unfortunately, this may be a good time to clean up after TFM, wiping out residues with a damp cloth and mild cleaning solution . Often, strange liquids (even blood) will appear to be a by-product of TFM digestion. Don't worry, its normal--just wipe them up. But don't get carried away. Remember the mantra 'it's only going to get dirty again, anyways'.

WORK is a four-letter word

Scientific observations prove that whenever someone mentions something about any type of (or what could be interpreted as) 'work', people in the area undergo certain behavioral changes. The phenomenon usually begins with a grimace, and glazing over of the eyes, often followed by a slight tilting of the head, accompanied by a remarkable camouflage effect, as the person fades from perception (not unlike the effect seen in "Predators" movies?). In group situations, there is some shifting of the eyes towards those who might be seen as being lower down the hill (yes, shit does travel with gravity), or further down the pecking order--This is referred to as the 'shared diffusion of responsibility effect'. Eye movements also tend to go down and to the right, as prospective victims search desperately for any (non-veridical) version of why they simply cannot find the time or spare the effort. It is amazing how busy everyone truly was, given that just seconds before, it was all 'smoke and joke' around the water cooler.  Vocalizations range from a  simple " Well, ummm..." to sighs of desperation.

The respective behavioral manifestations, and outcomes, may be a true measure of intelligence and success; those failing to 'disappear', or whose generated responses are lame or inadequate are often saddled with the task at hand. Avoidance is the desired outcome, and only the most adept can succeed. Unfortunately, it is unclear whether the skill is learned or innate. Often those lacking the gene[s] and/or the experience can be counted on by the masters to fail in serial fashion, thereby assuring very little work actually befalls the best. Regardless, the end result is that only the most foolish and unskilled in the art of dodging 'work' end up doing most of it. It's akin to the Darwinian principles. Everyone knows that those who do the least amount of actual work are the highest-paid (and most respected) individuals, in any given cohort.

Going back to the whole 'nature vs nurture' theme, some individuals appear to have evolved an uncanny ability to disappear, and/or otherwise evade the whole 'work' thing. For example, one of my sons (who shall remain nameless [lol]) showed early, and uncanny, manifestation of the camouflage effect in any given work-related event. However, this was often true in any given situation, so it may not be a byproduct of learning. Nevertheless, saying 'to pull a Patrick' is widely-recognized as a successful work-dodge effect, at least in our familial setting. Good job, son! < I'm so proud of him> On the other hand, a buddy of mine from the military was so good at dodging any kind of duty that he was nicknamed 'Shamost', because, well, he shammed the most (and, coincidentally, it rhymed with his surname). Man, he must've practiced the art for years to be so damn good. I'm not sure the man ever did anything besides sham out--(yeah, leaving the rest of 'us' to do the w-o-r-k...). He had all the moves, man...

Whether the Weather is Good or Not

Daym! All day without the need for A/C--again. Seems I no longer have an excuse to get out there (yes, outside the house) and DO something. For so long now, I have had a horribly hot and humid excuse to stay in and slack off. You see, whether the weather is good or not can depend upon your own motivations (or lack thereof).

There's a heap 'o stuff to do out there, for sure. My nemesis is the remainder of the scraping and painting that never got finished the other day (OK, maybe a couple years back). Of course, its the worst part. A lot of the remaining siding has the stubborn greasy-blackened 'Podunk residue' on top of peeling paint, so it either needs a good  washing or a wash and a sweeping before it can be scraped and primed. What a pain. What is it that they are putting in the air around here? Maybe it will rain...

Anyways, everyone knows that the 'weather' in the 'great indoors' is nearly always great (hence, the saying), so one can never blame not doing shit on the temperature or humidity there (dammit). Its not that I don't have shit to do indoors, too, but it seems easier to dodge when strapped to a LazyBoy, somehow. Plenty 'o work to do in the kitchen, bath, and yes, painting inside, too. Ugh. Come to think of it, its a bit nippy in here; if the temp goes down enough tonight, I can write off all paint-related crap till midday, and by then, I'll likely be way too beat to do any real work. [Yes, work is indeed a four-letter-word!] On second thought, maybe I'll fix on that computer thats been staring at me from the floor for a week--get something done that produces some satisfaction, and the guilt-painting valence will likely rapidly diminish...OOooh, yeah, that's the ticket!

California Dreamin'

(This here's one of those 'oddball' posts I pull outta my ass; it's about dreaming, and maybe about California, or something along those lines...)
Dreams--and weird dreams, especially--can be disturbing. Supposedly, dreams are the window to the soul; an avenue to the subconscious. Freud was big on dreams, but I dare say he was no better interpreting them than the average person on the street. Personally, I think he was kind of a sick bastard, with his Oedipal complex bullshit, and all. That was the real 'Sigmund', if the truth be known (yeah, I had to put up with learning all his *wack*! theories enroute to getting my BA in Psychology). Yes, he was a momma's boy--and a namby-pamby one at that. (/opinion).

Anyways, I'm going to try to get this down before i forget; a weird one from last night:

So, I'm traveling on some lonely back road, on my way to who-knows-where (California?), when I come across a road-side station with some kind of 'attraction' meant to suck in tourists. Of course, its filled with the local townspeople, who likely stop in during the day just to get a chuckle out of the 'tourists'. They populated about half the tables and stools in there, sipping coffee, or whatever they sip out there in the sticks. Seems like this place was waaaay out in the sticks, but I couldn't tell you where, exactly. Anyways, I come in, hoping to get a beverage, and to get a chuckle out of the locals (they GOTTA be Podunks....). I soon encountered a young lady who was kind enough to help me get a bottle--a glass bottle--of soda out of one of those old-timey slider-type ice/water filled soda "coolers". Yeah, it was pretty old looking, predating those new-fangled refrigerated coolers them thar city-slickers probably have. "Gosh", I said, "I haven't seen one of those in years". The gal kinda sneered and commented something about how nobody else around there could seem to get the bottles out, either, so she was forever 'waiting' on people just to get their sodas. I thought briefly about giving her a tip, then shrugged, and blew that one off...
To my amazement, she only charged me a dime.

Soda in-hand, I casually browsed about the place, and I came across a little area which, apparently, housed several farm animals, and an old, fat, fluffy dog. OK, I guessed this was the so-called 'attraction' meant to suck in the tourist bucks.  Upon closer examination, however, I realized that they were really just holograms of farm animals, except for the big fat pig, which was some form of animated paper mache´ figure. As I got closer to each holo-animal, they would go kind of 'fuzzy', flicker, and then fade from view. A local in overalls, straddling a chair there, said something about how messy the REAL ones used to be. The large, pink sow-thing seemed to just wander around the grounds. I thought it funny that someone (a local?) had kicked a gaping hole in its backside. Odd, but nobody had bothered to repair it, I thought. I laughed, to myself. Making my way out of that 'virtual zoo' area, I stopped to pet the dog, who seemed to enjoy the brief scratching I gave him behind his ears. "Whew!", I thought, "...at least this one is real".

Then, I noticed that my soda was tasting rather odd, and it began to have a slimy texture to it "shit!!" I exclaimed, as I gazed around for somewhere to drain the bottle. Finding a spittoon next to a local chewer, I emptied the bottle, which yielded some green, oozy stuff, not unlike algae. "Well, I'll keep the bottle," I thought, "it's probably a collector's item, anyways". So, now finding myself unslaked, I figure its time to get a beer. "Shore!" says the store-keep gal, warning me beforehand, "But we aint got much of a selection". That was putting it mildly; there were only two cans of (warm) beer to be had, and by the labels (these were actually TIN cans) they both looked like they predated the war (WWII). Figuring they had a chance to be intact, I purchased them both for a dollar.

I sipped my (warm) beer while looking for a stool, when in comes the tallest damned redhead I had ever seen. She was sobbing, and was mumbling something about nobody wanting her (was it because she was 6'5"?). Tall, but attractive; I gave her a passionate kiss, and pushed her back towards the post she was leaning on. "Did my good deed for the day," I thought, with an air of accomplishment. Then I woke up...

Well, that's about it--ended abruptly, and without resolution, as with most dreams. Just thought I'd get this one down, given how unusual it was. Anyone wanna take a crack at the symbolism or interpretation?
Lol,
GT

Frugal Tips, Tips On Saving Money, Cost Cutting & Thrifty Advice - 2010 Savings Challenge - AARP

"Cheap-Ass-Bastard" (CAB) Tips: Eating Out...

As you well know from my previous writing on the subject, one is discouraged from squandering their ill-gotten gains on frivolities like 'eating out' at restaurants. However, given that one may tire of the drudgery inherent to preparing one's own food, and the reality that everybody will do so, at times, I've decided to provide a few useful guidelines and tips to allow filling of the belly, without emptying of the wallet:

• First, keep in mind the cardinal rule: its not about the quality of the food, but the quantity, in relation to what one must spend (#/$$/meal/pp ratio). Forget about both taste and nutrition value--remember, sedentary beings require few nutrients. Focus on the ratio. A genuine "Cheap-Ass-Bastard" (CAB) endeavors to get a whole lotta chow for the buck! Plan on going to places as close to home as possible, to both save time and lower transportation costs.
• Set a 'spending rule'; place a (psychological) price-point limit that you are willing to pay for a meal, and stick to it! Masterful CAB spending allows up to 7 (yes, seven) dollars for a real splurge-fest, but 'everyday'-type meals around $3.00 are more reasonable--try to maintain a goal of spending as little as $2.50/meal/pp.
• Coupons are your friends; use them often! No self-respecting CAB will ever pay full price for a meal. Many come right to your mailbox, and others are online or in local newspapers and 'PennySaver'-type publications (free). You get bonuses for cheaping-out with a buffet coupon!
• Buffets and 'Dollar menus' are your best friends! OK, the buffets are for splurging. Local burger joints and mexican/taco 'restaurants' nearly always have the cheap-ass foods you love, at a ridiculous price. Given the time, effort, waste, and direct costs involved in preparing your own meals, these places may even be cheaper than if you fixed them at home. Real CABs go for the dollar-or less menu items+ water, of course.

1. Buffet Tips: Never order any drinks (unless they come with the buffet price)--drink water, and then restrict all drinking, so you can fill the stomach with excessive quantities of solid foods. Go for meats! breads and veggies take up precious space reserved for fats and proteins. Chew well, and take your time; one could spend a couple hours pigging out at any given buffet, if one gets there at the start. Let food settle between trips. (try this!)
2. Burger Joint Tips: You can have anything you like, as long as its on the 'Dollar' menu, but go with water for drinking, of course. If you want to fill up, order two burgers (instead of one plus fries), unless there is someone to share a fry (eg., 1 Lg. fry per 3-4 people cheaping-out together). if you just need something to eat, try a double-cheap-burger and a large wa-wa--we're talking about $1 +tax/meal/pp! Given the place has the dollar menu you're after, and even that you are gonna pig out, we're talking about a meal for $2-2.50 pp! (If you solo this, and you just have to get fries, go for the dollar fries or 'small' with your double-cheap-burger). Believe me, either way, you will get beau-coup calories, fat, and sodium enough to last all day.
3. Taco Joint Tips: One of my favorites is the taco joint, or facsimile, with a condiments bar! These places can fill you up with their bean & staple foods on-the-cheap! Whether you are ordering for there or to go, you can load up on condis to reap some of the best ratios imaginable--approaching $1/meal/pp! The only disadvantage is that you must go inside to load up the goodies. However, with a condiments bar, you can transform two puny-ass bean burritos, simple tostadas or tacos into masterpieces of culinary delight, brimming with so much food that it will not only fill you up, but you will likely have food to go left over. I personally go with either two burritos or a burrito and tostada combo (off the dollar or less menu [eg., .89 each], we're talking two bucks for a potential two-meal-deal!). Load these up with the fresh tomato/onion salsas, liquified salsas, jalepenos, more onions, and whatever else  available to transform puny, deficient entrees into huge, overladen, vessels of plunder! Unroll that burrito and stuff 1/2# of veggies and salsas in there, and then chow out! Stuff and take the other item with you for another quick meal at home, later. (try this anywhere there is a condiment bar!) Water for here, please....

Well, these are GT's best tips for cheap-ass bastards. Try these techniques and apply the rules to 'save the green' wherever you go, when you just have to eat out. You can go to these same places and drop a huge wad of cash for more lavish menu items, but hey, it's all going to turn into smelly brown stuff by the next day, and the nutrition values/caloric content will be similar (or worse)--So, just don't do it...

WTF? Abducted by Aliens?

Help! I may have been abducted by aliens! 

That might sound kinda crazy, but, it's possible...I guess (ok--I don't remember--satisfied?). It all has to do with my seemingly paranormal lapses in both time and memory, on an epic scale. These two phenomena, 'missing time' and/or memory loss, have both been associated with the bizarre; alien abductions, hallucinations, and psychopathology. Although I'm pretty sure the latter two can be ruled out, I just can't shake the 'abduction' thing. The problem is, most so-called abductees have memories of the abductions, and the usual schema relating to aliens, spacecraft, and yes,  the dreaded 'anal probe' (Oh, no! Not the anal probe! ). Suffice it to say, I don't have any conscious recollection of that sort whatsoever--I just can't remember shit, and I have no clue as to what has occurred in the near past.  Sure, I can remember certain events and conversations, but as to when they actually occurred, I have no concept. I now (cleverly) use the phrase "...the other day" when attempting to convey some temporal aspect of a given event. Problem is, it could have been the other month, or even 'sometime in the last few years'--it still seems like it was 'just the other day', to me--I have no clue.

WTF? Where does all that time go? It is more than a bit disturbing that I am apparently no longer able to distinguish or relate to temporal events in the near-past. What is my near-past? I don't have the foggiest. The other day, I got a two month's past due notice re: my dog's heart worm meds. Man, I raced over to the calendar, and then to the drug cabinet, and wondered "WTF?" as I peeled off a page on the calendar and tossed an (empty) medicine box into the trash. Had I lost an entire freaking month? It seems dubious. Granted, given the right contextual cues, I may be able to whip out some details even Brainiac 5 would be proud of. Regardless, I would still be left blinking if someone inquired about when, and likely where, I learned said detail. "Ummm... well, the other day, not long ago..."  

I guess having shit for memory can have some advantages. I can watch reruns and old movies without getting bored (or sometimes even without a clue re: what happens next). Its also a great excuse for 'forgetting' someone's birthday, ands/or missing so-called 'important' deadlines or appointments. Even if you get excoriated  for screwing up, you likely won't recall it, soon enough--a win-win.

Now that I got to thinking on this, it seems as though these lapses are fairly recent phenomena, and *not* attributable to 'old age' (I'm not that old). Mayhap it is related to this podunk town I ended up in? Yes, that must be it. Blame the freakin'  podunks, and their bass-ackwards ways! They probably spike the water (or air?) with some native concoction (shamanistic substance?), in order to 'dumb-down' anyone who stays long enough to absorb 'x' amount of it--there are a lot of 'Native-Americans' here, ya know. 


Q: Why would 'they' do such a thing?  Maybe so the population doesn't seem as ignorant and in-bred as they truly are...AHA! Further, if one stayed in the area long enough, one's IQ would dip down into the L-O-W double digits, blending in with the locals, perfectly. OK, I see it all now; a system devised as a means of adding a bit of genetic diversity into their stagnant gene pool. There is a chance that breeding could occur, even here... (Man, I gotta get outta here, and soon!). Ok. So, this whole memory/time losing thing probably wasn't about an alien conspiracy, after all--it's more likely a 'podunk' thing...

More on Podunks, later...

GT

Holy Crap, I'm a Writer!

You know how people say, "Hell, I oughta write a book" or "you oughta..."? Well, ideally, one would need to be a 'writer' to accomplish such a feat. Myself, I don't really read books, per se, so nobody would expect me to write one, or to become a writer. I will assume the term doesn't simply designate an ability to write--the whole idea is quite nebulous, don't you agree? Therefore, given that few people (if any) know what prerequisites or training are actually involved in becoming a writer, I'm going to 'just do it'--POOF!--I'm a writer! Whoa! I never thought it would be so easy. Amazingly, until a few minutes ago, I actually didn't know that I am indeed a writer (in fact, as I write this, I'm becoming even more convinced).  Now that we have established my credentials,  let me assure you that I plan on putting the 'bullshit' back in blogging, for sure, with a collection of ramblings and (true) bullshit any (well...) momma could be proud of.

So, what does it take to be a writer, anyways? Let's explore this issue, just to make sure my new-found [a]vocation isn't a fluke, or a figment of a deluded imagination--I'll generate a simple list here to elucidate the defining aspects of a character who writes about characters, both real and imagined, or simply blather off a whole lotta bullshit, and call it 'writing':

• First off, one either has to have a wide range of experiences from which to draw upon, or one helluva imagination, in order to express the depths of insanity--I mean humanity--required to properly develop a character: check√
• Next, one must have beau-coup time to 'waste' on such a frivolous undertaking. This means one is either independently wealthy, retired, or living off  'the dole' (sponging or leaching off others included): check√
• Of course, one must have a firm grasp of ze 'english', or whatever language is involved, including correct spelling and usage, some degree of grammar and sentence structure, etc. Alternatively, one can have a good dictionary/thesaurus, and/or a ghost-writer, or just be able to 'wing it' by the 'dazzle them with BS' method: check√
• One must have a sense of humor. Although this sense is quite ill-defined, it's a must-have. There are many kinds of humor, so take your pick: check√
• Finally, one needs a readership; some population or collection of freaks willing to read (or buy[?]) your voluminous assortment of verbalisms. In the case of blogs like this, the target population is: whoever is out there that stumbles across it--someone will read it, and like it: check√

Ok, so there you have it; definitive proof that I am a writer--no ifs, ands, or buts. I knew it! Look Ma, I'm a WRITER!