In Wear a Helmet, Baeli again displays her ability to swing from unapologetic humor to revealing even the most painful fragments of her psyche. From Early Voting for Idiots & The Insane, wherein she laments the often confusing and convoluted items found on a ballot, to the ignorant among us in Them Thangs that Hold up Books, and on to a painful journey through her own healing in Herniated Disco: Lies & The Lying Doctors who Tell Them, and an examination of hoarders in I Don’t Keep Hoardly Anything, Baeli marches fearlessly toward the politically incorrect, waving her unique banner of blunt honesty.

 

 

5.0 out of 5 starsWitty, Sarcastic, and Intelligent Compositions

From Knock & the Door Won’t Be Opened to You...

Experience has shown that I don’t usually know who they are, anyway, and if I don’t know them, the Knockers are probably some local church-goers who wish to save my soul from its current trajectory to an eternal fiery furnace set up by the loving Christian god, and for which there is no evidence. I used to toy with these people, by answering the door and when they asked if I went to church, or if I’d accepted Jesus as my personal savior, I offered some scandalous and disrespectful retort designed to spin them into spiritual confusion. (Something like “No, I can’t accept Jesus as my personal savior, because Satan is my deity of choice, and he doesn’t like Jesus very much.” Or I’ll go to the door with a ketchup-smeared chef’s knife in my hand and growl, “Can’t you see that I’m in the middle of an important ritual?”)

I eventually lost interest in this little game, just like cats who play with a mouse until it stops moving, and then it’s no fun anymore. These preachy types were just like another mouse. Or maybe more like lemmings. Either way, they eventually just became aggravating. It wasn’t worth me getting my sleep disturbed. And often, the knock interrupted some erotic dream which I was enjoying immensely and would never be able to rejoin when I climbed back in bed.

So I was finally forced to post a sign at my door, which read,

NO SOLICITORS.
If I don’t know you, don’t knock. This goes for church-people too.
Knock, and the door won’t be opened to you. A stranger is just a person I haven’t SHOT yet.

I added a little graphic of a hand holding a gun. I haven’t heard a knock since. Although I did find a package that the UPS girl had quietly left for me yesterday. She didn’t knock. Maybe I should add an addendum that package delivery people were exempt from a bullet.

 

CONTENTS

The Unbearable Lightness of  Being UNBEARABLE
How Spammers Really Make Money
Vicious Cycle:  What No One Talks About
Politically Incorrect Kevlar
I Don’t Keep Hoardly Anything
Medical Professionals Were NOT Stunned
FUBAR
People Are Just M&M’s
Here, Hold My Brain While I Vote
PC, Bad. Honesty, Good
News I’d Like to Hear
The First Idiot & His Right-Hand Dick
Maybe, Just Maybe I was Wrong
Knock & the Door Won’t Be Opened to You
Awareness, Focus & Mindless  Lemmings
Pretend it’s a Secret…
Drag Shows are Aptly Named
The Hunter Conundrum
Maverick AKA Reckless
Second Presidential Debate
“Don’t You DARE say I’m Unique!”
Burning Bush
Early Voting for Idiots & the Insane.
Lights! Camera! Grief.
Them Thangs That Hold Up Books.
Movie Review: The Descent
Herniated Disco:  Lies & the Lying Doctors Who Tell Them…
Herniated Disco: Motivations & Ruminations
Herniated Disco:  How the Bleep Do YOU Know?
Going to Denver Because You’re Dead (1)
Going to Denver Because  You’re Dead (2)
Kindred Molecules, Deja Vu,  and the Noosphere
Maintenance Mike & The Domesticated Harpy.
Gay Marriage in the US and Why it Has Not Been Legalized.
Footie Pajamas in the Street.