I had nothing for an intro to this week’s SYW post, so I typed a couple random letters in my media archives search and went back looking for a random image I had uploaded here. I stopped on this one of Bashful the rock eating some of my barbecue potato chips. It’s hard to believe it was at this time four years ago that Bashful was finishing up a six week stay at The Nest, on loan from Bacon’s family, who routinely sent him to fellow bloggers who would chronicle his adventures during his short stays. Despite long being very active in the blogging community, the lady who ran that blog suddenly quit blogging a couple years ago, and I’m unsure if anyone knows why. But Bashful’s legacy still lives on at The Nest, as the skits I made featuring him are what directly led to me creating Shelf Critter Theatre, which will celebrate its official four year anniversary near the end of the month. How time flies when you’re having fucked up fun…
Now, let’s get our rocks off by Sharing Our World, with questions, as always, by Melanie…
Are we “here” or do we just think we are? Can you prove your point of view?
Of course we’re “here.” Here’s proof…
From an identity stand-point, which would be the worst for you personally to lose? Your face, your body or your voice? Which do YOU identify with most strongly for your own sense of self?
It’s kind of hard to answer this since we don’t perceive any of these things the same way other people do. We can look at our face in a mirror, but it’s reversed. We can glance down at our body, but never see it in the proper perspective others do. And our true voices get distorted by the inner vibrations between the larynx and inner ear. So we can never experience our identity the same way the people around us do… which matters, because none of these three characteristics should mean a thing to anyone’s own sense of identity. In the absence of interaction with others, our physical traits have no bearing on what our self identity is…
Do you have a ‘song’? If you’re part of a couple, you could use “your couple’s song” OR a song that’s just always resonated with you.
I don’t have any one song. It’s probably a combination of my random tin ear when it comes to music, and the fact that I rarely pay any attention whatsoever to the meanings of songs, even if I might be able to rattle off a few of the lyrics.
Since I can’t come up with anything for this…. here’s a song I used to start singing to myself anytime I entered a challenging situation… to calm my nervousness from something that I knew was going to be uncomfortable or that I hadn’t experienced before.
Because it will be alright, once you get past the pain….
Are ghosts real or has someone been smoking something and just imagines them?
FUZZYWIG: Attributing hallucinations to smoking MARIHUANA. Gee, how original. I’ll have you know that I’ve been smoking my good stuff for over….. um…… however many years it’s been since I was born, and not once have I ever seen anything out of the ordinary due to the chemicals it introduces into my brain.
BUSTER: Hello, good sir!
FUZZYWIG: Ummmmmmm….. didn’t you kinda die yesterday?
BUSTER: Sure did! Got my snout caught in the box fan again. It happens a few times a year…
FUZZYWIG: So I’m actually seeing a ghost?
BUSTER: I assure you, my body in entirely corporeal.
FUZZYWIG: That’s impossible. I guess Nancy Reagan was right…. I shoulda just said no.
SNUGGLE: Does this prove that Buster isn’t a ghost? Ghosts don’t bleed, dude!
FUZZYWIG: Yes, thanks Snuggle. Now I can go back to enjoying my dope without worrying about the effects it might have on my sanity.
Please free free to share a moment of gratitude you experienced over the past week.
To show that no good deed goes unpunished, I decided to feed Ody some of the cat treats he loves after coming home from lunch yesterday. About 20 minutes later, those treats were barfed up all over my bed. That’s GRATITUDE for you….
oooh my how could I furget Pablo? … and we agree ghosts don’t bleed… YES!
It’s good Buster is made out of yarn. Add the blood and gore from a possum snout getting caught in a box fan to the cat barf and the Nest would be a real mess! What is it with cats barfing on the bed? It’s something I could pretty much count on happening here any time I was feeling under the weather and not up to changing all the bedding. But looking at that last photo of Ody being cute, I still miss having cats!
Aw, I remember you had three cats when I first found you. That’s sad that they’re all gone. I make sure to keep Buster away from my box fan, he has enough trouble with Snuggle, Zeeba and Ninja on a Skateboard chopping him up…
Please try to stop by tomorrow for Saturday Squirrel! You will not regret it, as I had the most fabulous visitor today!!!!
Bummer on the ‘new bedspread.’ Hope he feels better soon.
Ah yes, the days when Bashful traveled the globe to unsuspecting bloggers. That boy sure could get into some rocky situations, couldn’t he?
I think it was just normal cat barfing, he seems fine. Of course, it didn’t spare me having to do an extra load of laundry…
I miss Bashful and Bacon. I remember politely declining Bashful when June first offered to send him to me, but I’m glad she convinced me otherwise. Where would The Nest be without its shelf critters?
Fuzzywig looks high AF 😂
That’s what I love about him! That face! I found him in a Bass Pro Shop, and HAD to buy him!
Thanks Bill for Sharing Your World and some Evil Squirrel cuteness and wit to lift our spirits. Bwahah. Buster (and perhaps possums in general, never seen a possum personally and from what I hear, I never want to either…creepy lil’ critters; have ten trillion lives rendering SYW question #1 a bit moot. They ARE here. Permanently. Like Keith Richards and cockroaches. Ody is ADORABLE, but maybe you’ll wanna change his brand of cat treat…it sounds like it did NOT agree with him. But Ziggy got the sh*ts from eating half a container (very small container too) of wet food I had in the pantry. Pooped on the tile floor in the dining room to show his displeasure too. No more wet food (of that brand) for Ziggy! Good thing our pets are cute…
That’s the first time he barfed from the cat treats. It was probably hairball aided, which he has issues with having such thick fur.
We are here and I couldn’t part with my body, voice or anything. Otherwise I wouldn’t be me. Our song was “I never promised you a Rose Garden.” which tells me now….life was going to be a test…it has been too.
Life’s definitely a beach and not a rose garden.
Speaking of canine (rather than feline) ingratitude, the Duke rejected a left-over chicken stew dinner because he has decided he doesn’t like potatoes. I personally think that from this moment on, he deserves DOG food, even though he does not believe he is a dog.
I had a cat once that was sure it was a dog. People aren’t the only ones with identity crises…
In the absence of interaction with others, our physical traits have no bearing on what our self identity is…
Good point, well said. Never thought of that before, but true.
I accidentally spit out some deep thoughts every once in a while with my outside the box way of answering these questions….
Thank goodness there are signs like that to disprove any philosophical and metaphysical points of view…