Good evening everyone! I want to share a bit of descriptive writing I did, a few nights ago, with you here. Thank you for visiting "Insides Out"!

Tonight is the sort when magic happens. The air is magnificent! It surrounds me, neither cold nor hot, as if was it made in perfect compliment to my own warmth. I breathe it in deeply, feeling it fill by lungs, almost not wanting to exhale. It smells of new love, of complete peace within ones self, of sharing and of coveting. A sky, seemingly clear but without stars, surrounds all that is. All at once, I am self contained and part of an innumerable mass.
Sitting behind the wheel, as if I could drive indefinitely in this moment, I listen to the engine & stare through the on coming headlights. This evening, possibly the most perfect I’d experienced, and in the company of only myself. Each song the radio played was the more apropos. I drank in the exquisiteness of the sweet, cold peach tea, as it parts my lips and quenches my dry throat. Every one of my senses seems fully awake and fully aware.
Part of me dies to bring the truck to a halt, to poor every thought onto paper, stealing it away from the world, to hold to myself the beauty and keep it from the spoiling of others. But what if I should stop and the memories and words and feelings that I long to keep, fall from my mind leaving me alone, only knowing that what was, was extraordinary, and what is now, is only now.
If I never stop, if I continue this drive, on this night, in this body, could I hold onto it? Would it, as all things do, eventually subside? And if and when it did, would I be able to recall the feelings as they live in my mind now?

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Insides Out: A more succint version of Mr. Brands "The Guardian" article

Insides Out: A more succint version of Mr. Brands "The Guardian" article

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A more succint version of Mr. Brands "The Guardian" article

I needed a link to this bit of writing, so I've posted it here. Feel free to read. I'll even include the link to the original article. But, I dont expect it to be pertanent to any of my typical themes on this blog. Good day to all!
sarah

Dear Mr. Brand,
This note is in response to your twitter:
“You might like to go to guardian.co.uk then go to football, and then read my article. Then you could teach me how to convey that info succinctly.”
To which I responded:
oldsoul991@rustyrockets I accept this challenge! I know little of football, I have heard of the Guardian, and I'm looking up succinctly now! By God yes!
I’ve taken the liberty of reducing your lovely piece of writing to a poor excuse for a primary school report. I hope this is put together succinctly enough for your needs.
Cordially,
Ms .S.C. Gallagher

Sir Alex Ferguson’s desires to win trophies for Manchester United, is all encompassing. Manchester United beat Liverpool, Chelsea, & Arsenal’s teams.
These questions are being posed amongst the football following & participating population: They may happen, but probably won’t-

“Ooooh, Wenger might go to Madrid”

“Tevez might go to Anfield”

The only sure thing is that Manchester United will win things. My mate is sad, roughly, they’re using cookie cutters forms to produce flawless players. He misses fat, toothless, hag men footballers. The kind not welcome in today leagues, lest they be taken out back and shot.

Now United has equaled Liverpool’s record of 18 titles. Fergie now says he’ll only be happy when they surpass that with 19 titles. Sir Alex Ferguson is old and getting older by the second. He is in declining health, i.e. he’s a sick old man. Fergie will likely continue to be a crabby, sick old man, yelling, even, from beyond the grade.

On a side note: Pre- Conception (?) Announcement: Please welcome help welcome to the Geldof family, Moon Cup Geldof. It will be born or hatched, sometime after 4pm NYC time on 23 May, 2009.

Will Tevez remain? Is it ok for United get caught up in millionaire slave trade but not West Ham? Tevez said publicly he’s leaving no matter what. This sounds fairly forthright for a footballer.
Perhaps we could we persuade you if we made him king of Manchester & forced Roodney to drive him. What if Falklands Islands are returned? How about we free from this weird contract you’re in, that makes you to wander the earth like The Hulk.

United’s final game is against Hull. The relegation threatened managers of the north-east are preparing their laments, should Hull somehow escape the championship by thrashing United’s reserves.

ACCEPT FOOTBALL HAS CHANGED! All the big people have little people.
Prediction: Ferguson will slurp triumphantly from a Moon Cup.
(Jesus, the things not even born yet and he are slurping out of it?)

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BQ3- The Madness Continues

MY BRILLIANT QUOTES PART 3

“When life gives you lemons, learn to juggle.”

“Can you really know how someone else FEELS without touching them?”

“Don’t mistake intriguing for important.”

“I’d rather have a pack of dogs then a group of friends. Throw the pups a few raw steaks, and they’ll kiss your feet! Friends have a somewhat different response.”

“Vegetarians can wear leather, as long as they don’t take to eating there shoes. That would be a problem.”

“Do not fear TOFU!”

“Sometimes I get out of bed just for chocolate.”

“When I want to look cool, I go to the store and pick out the clothing I’d be most uncomfortable wearing. It works every time!”

“Time is not an illusion, it’s invisible.”

“I take all my vacations in my dreams.”

“Fear is humbling and normal. Confidence is arrogant and insane.”

“I kept hearing I’D put my eye out with that, but really, THAT did all the work.”

(What kind of dog is he?) “He’s a brown dog.”

“I’m still looking for Waldo.”

“In the end, when I meat my maker, I’m hoping for a pat on the head and to hear, “SARAH, YOU WERE A VERY GOOD LITTLE CRACK HEAD.”

“You should be honored I have put your baby at the same level of importance of my dog. That baby's not house broken, does not sleep through the night, and you can’t even trust him alone in the house!”

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About "My Brilliant Quotes"

Just so anyone and everyone know, I don't find myself more brilliant then any other person. I call my quotes brilliant, part in jest, and part to bolster my self esteem ha ha. No, really, I like most other people, don't find myself to be (to put it in 1960's terms) the living end. The living, perhaps, that would be a better definition of me. More stories and quotes are being created in my mind at every moment. Stop back here for updates!

Peace, love, healing & joy,
Sarah

My Brilliant Quotes Part 2

BRILLIANT QUOTES PART 2

“If you weren’t such a flamer I'd make sweet love to you for months”

“Rottweiler’s shouldn’t fear dingoes! Tasty treats shouldn't come in unrecyclable plastics! And, mania should always heighten creativity. NUTS!”

“Everything that doesn’t make sense to me tends to be seen as sensible!”

“Have you ever seen a foreign car with a NASCAR sticker?”

“I think there’s a fine line dividing insanity and genius, but I have yet to find any such line, despite a good deal of exploration through both.”

“When you loose a man, you realize a second thing they’re good for: putting lotion on your back. Darn it all! I should have kept him. Well, you live you learn.”

“When you love all man kind, you free yourself from hate.”

“Why is everyone so down on dissociation? It makes the work day fly by!”

“I like to think I know all the answers, but some have yet to introduce themselves.”

My Brilliant Quotes Part 1

Last night I decided to try and write down some of my own quotes. I have come up with some real beauty's, loll, but these were the best ones I can remember, at this point. Some will be insane, some humors & some oddly thought provoking, more to come soon. Now, continuing with my comical theme of late, my quotes!


"There’s a time to shop & there's a time to run, screaming,
from the store. Which will it be today?"

"Heavy is the head that wears the collar."

"Average is the new ugly"

"I know what you're thinking, but you can't buy brilliance!"

"Pigeons are brilliant feathered spies, sent here by God
Himself, to judge us and assign due penance. These
Birds’ are brilliant rogues and I applaud there work."

"Tom & Jerry, quite he odd couple they were. Don't give up on them!
My cousin may have used there program as an instruction manual to more effectively torture me, as a child, but that doesn't mean they are all bad!
They do make good candidates for same sex/inter species counseling though."

"Anyone with a Y chromosome, barring those who have been
Dismembered in horrific accident or assault, will have
3 legs :)"

"Underpants: the only way to live when you can’t remain
Naked."

"Only truly seeing the world through ones own eyes, is it
Possible, not to be self centered?"

Maybe I can be a stand-up comic... & The story of Mr. Seven Thighs & Dick Fitzwell

I decided recently, after about a years worth of lusting, that maybe I could be a stand-up comic. I saw a comedy central special, with Russell Brand, this March. He was my kind of weird, my kind of goofy, & my kind of funny, certainly. If you have yet to encounter him, do look him up. I promise, you'll either love him or hate him. After seeing him on TV, I thought to myself, hmm...If this putz can do it, why can't I? I started brainstorming immediately after the performance ended. Within the next few days I began writting. I'm going to share my first bit with you here. If you happen upon this, and choose to read, please share your thoughts. Even if is just to say, "this sucks", I want to know.

My first authentic, (food, clothing, and shelter providing), job was at a KFC in Del City, Oklahoma. I was trained for the typical peon jobs. As it turned out, I was either so extraordinarily good or so colossally bad, that I was quickly moved in to the delivery section. I took orders over the phone, and organized which order to send out with and which, and what driver would take them. Like any other customer service type job you get regulars. I’d like to begin with one such person, MR. SEVEN THIGHS. One evening he called to place his regular order. I answer the phone in my perky phone voice. A voice you'd liken to a phone sex operator trying to sell chicken to Purdue.

“Thank you for calling KFC, this is Sarah, how may I help you?” I paused briefly & continued.
“I’m very well, and yourself?” Again I pause, awaiting responce. It was Mr. Seven Thighs calling for his regular order.
“Good. Can I get your number real quick, so I can bring up your address...thanks. Now let me make sure I’ve got this right, you want an 8 piece original recipe chicken- 7 thighs & 1 leg?”

It's important at this point to note the destructive nature of this particular order. To procure 7 thighs, you must defile 4 chickens, leaving them in quite awkward state, to say the least. Not only does this cause disruption to the chickens, the cook is none too happy either. Besides his natural inclination to protect chickies, there is progection sheet he must obey. The cook has to have so much of each flavor chicken available at any given hour. The magical computer spits it out every day, the chicken frying bible of sorts, really.

“Ok. I’m going to put you on hold for a minute, so I can find out exactly when I will be able to get that to you, hot and fresh. Ok, just a moment.” I put him on hold. Mr. Seven Thighs has had his order wrecked so many times. I was always extra careful to get it right.

I turned away from the phone and headed towards the cook, Richard, who was putting chicken in to the marinater. It can be easy to upset a cook with an order that will snatch the thighs out from under his poultry. I approached with caution, in my most demure posture, hanging my head a bit, perhaps I'd bat an eyelash or two. I glided across the floor, as lady like as my clutzy nature would allow. I began my manic rant...

"I’m sorry Richard. Mr. Seven Thighs is on the phone and wants his regular order".
Richard raised his head from his work, smirked, shook his head and returned to his task at hand.

Richard look up from his marinater, with a quizical smile, and spoke, now with a keenly affeminet voice.

"Sure, no problem. Anything for you Sarah!" We had a goofy comraderry, bound by mutual admiration of our common insanity.
"Thanks Richard", said, in a voice to mimic his own flamming one. I turned to walk back to the phone, when I realized I had one more question.

I turned back toward him, and put on my telephone voice.

“When do you think you’ll have 7 hot fresh original recipe thighs and a leg up?”

"It’ll be up in ten minutes", he said with a little smile. (Still attending to his marination thirsty babies.

My speech return to its previous manic jubillation.
"Awesome! Chicken will be up in 10 minutes, driver will be back in 10 minutes. Mr. Seven Thighs will have his order in 15-20. Woo Hoo!"
I turn to get back to my phone, once again, with such joy at this lovely news, I was skipping. But, 1 ½ skips in I heard "Thighs" Richard had spoken.

Thighs? I thought...Jesus, what's wrong. I cringed and spun back towards him.
"What Richard?"
As I turned & spoke, I glimpsed something odd. There stood Richard, (his arms extended forward, palms facing skyward with a raw thigh resting on each of them. He looked as a man offering up his first born in sacrifice to God himself. When he saw that I was paying attention, he turned his head to see me squarely, and then he spoke again.
"Thighs... I love thighs", he said glowing. He now turned to face me, and continued.Whilst he began his following declaration he grasped the thighs, moving his hands deftly parallel to his ears and declared,
"Especially on my ears". Immediately follwing "ears" he closed his eyes and made a gross tongue display.

Being quite pleased with himself, he began laughing and doing a little jig (clearly pleased with his performance). Now I, having been the most naïve 19 year old on earth, did not get it. Despite that, I had a good, short, chuckle at his little dance. Also, I'd hate to offend this, now clearly unstable fellow. I spun on one food to return to the phone. No longer skipping, but still pleased. My foot raised into a step when he spoke again.
"Dick".
Good God, what is he talking about now? What the heck is wrong with him? He’s nuts. Remember not to be alone with this one. I put my foot down and turned back to face him.
"What?", I snapped.
He spoke again, now wearing a real shit eating grin.
"Fitzwell..."he said(standing as though he was 007)he inhaled deeply on an imagined cigarette, exhaling through his nostrils, as it should be done. Richard continued, "Dick Fitzwell, that’s my name."
He immediately spun into a roaring bout of laughter.

I may not have gotten the thighs & ears joke, but this I got. I laughed myself to the point of hyperventilation & beyond. My abdomen wrenched with pain. I struggled to get myself quieted and back to Mr. Seven Thighs, still on hold. I quelled my hysterics as best I could, to complete our conversation.

Apparently my ability to stifle myself was lacking. As soon as I said hello to Mr. Seven Thighs, laughter took over me once again. My laughter echoed on the phone line as I spoke.

"Hi again. You’ll have your order hot and fresh, at your door in 15 to 20 minutes sir. Thank you. Bye now" If Mr. Seven Thighs had any weaknesses in his self esteem when he rang me up, my hysterical closing to our conversation, surely made Swiss cheese of them!

I don’t know how long exactly it took for me to get the thighs and ears joke, but it was quite awhile. Come to think of it, I've never FULLY gotten IT!