Blog-azic

I went to the Ridges today and had an adventure. [Here I will digress from my story in order that I may provide more information about what exactly is "the Ridges." The Ridges is a geographic area on the property of Ohio University. The most prominant feature of the Ridges - most would say - is the collection of buildings that were for a very long time an "insane" asylum - please excuse my uncooth language. If, however, you were to ask my opinion on the matter, I would say that the most prominant feature of the Ridges are the gigantic trees.] I went to the Ridges today to pick crabapples. I have watched the crabapples since I last cooked with them. Some have been eaten by birds and some have not. I wonder why some have not. I picked these crabapples to cook up a Christmas gift. Then, I took a walk. I walked by the gnarly shagbark hickory that lives on the hillside near the auditorium. I walked up the hill and by a most interesting sculture of a horse. I walked down

This past weekend, I visited a friend. Adam and I worked on deer hide. We fleshed the hide; we scraped lingering fat and meat from the "inside" of the hide. As we fleshed, we discussed Jesus and listened to Bob Marley. We prepared the hide for the rack by cutting one-inch slits in the skin, about an inch from each other and the edge of the hide. I will soon build a rack and string it up. Then, I will scrape more flesh from the hide and vigorously rub brain into it. Last weekend I also thought: If I were the kind of man to be impressed by body smells, I would be impressed by my smells. Perhaps the following story will elaborate on this: I was, one day, on the toilet in a campus building doing my duty to GOD and this fair land. An unknown student walked in, smelled the raunchy air, and said, "Oh great. It's orangutan." Most finally, I have posted the song of which you will find the lyrics in the post below this one. This post, then, concludes our game. I wonder ho

Below are song lyrics I've penned recently. Mull over them for a while, think about how the song (with music) might sound. Soon I'll publish the song and you can hear how close you were. The Angels Are Singing This is a song I wrote during the late evening of December 1. In retrospect, I say it is a prophesy of the end of the world. The ocean is all in a tempest for the Lord called the angels to sing. They sang with the fury of a beehive in spring, alive at the birth of the first living thing. The ocean is risin' up slowly for the Lord called the heavens to rain. It poured with a fury for forty straight nights. It poured with a fury for forty straight days 'Till the hillsides and valleys were covered, but the mountains were still pretty green. The people climbed up to the top of the world and watched all their lives float away like a dream. They called on the Lord to help them, but their necks were too stiff to believe that the Lord had it well in his power and love to