For those that ever accuse me of having an agenda? I'm lucky if I plan the next 5 minutes. That might explain why I'm always late. Do I at least have ideas? Maybe. So. A new blog is available.

I was 3 years old on that night. And no, I could not sleep. I stayed up all night. My kid world bubble had burst. My father did not have the answers. So my questions stopped. But not my curiosity. I should not still be alive.

I can't recommend having a baby - or getting married - at the age of 20. Too many 3am thoughts about "swimming" in the Monongahela River. But that was me. My life? A giant steaming pile of absurdity. And THIS? More than once.

After my great-grandfather's Winchester Model 1906 - my father's H&R Topper Model 58 12-Gauge holds the most memories. None fond. 10 year old me did not appreciate the hardwood stock using deer slugs during target practice.

Happy Thanksgiving America! Focusing on what's truly important about this holiday. Let's all agree that there is nothing else in nature quite like the sound of a rafter of wild turkeys taking flight next to your head!

It's Silly Sunday! With a rare surname, I have it easy when it comes to social media, skype, blah, blah, blah. A boring first initial and last name. Or my email. So. I'm not hard to find. Unlike any John Smiths born in 2022.

Yes, I realize in this context the children are more like "ammunition". But ... Wait! Why am I justifying myself to you?!? This is MY cartoon! Anyway. This is as good as it's gonna get for a Christmas mood from me this year.

I may have seen something like this "Once Upon a Time". But. I have reached my limit for effort on originality. May God have mercy on my creative soul? Well. On second, third, fourth thought. Just give me ... "The End".

Welcome to the cookie universe, aka “The Cerse” – the new home for The Cookie Folk! We’ll see which lasts longer: them, my sanity or our planet. Please. No betting. The odds are not in anyone’s favor.

I am in a mood. So. Ouch. Yeah. This is gonna hurt. Hopefully only in a temporal sense. Not my eternal damnation. Hmm. I hope all that personal growth God demonstrated between the Old and New Testaments wasn’t … fake.

I am exasperated by the current state of humanity. And. My presence in it. Thus. If we did have “creators”? THIS is my guess on how they feel after releasing us into the wild. We needed to “cook” – a lot, lot, lot longer.

Does someone care about THIS math? So. What is half of creation? Is it a very large number? And. How is it measured? Did time start counting at zero? Yet more ponders. What prompted the “bang”? I doubt I’ll ever find out.

Silly Sunday? I’m not quite sure which premise for the anger is most disturbing. Pick whichever one is …. um, darkest? Weirdly, I don’t think I’ve ever disappointed my ESFP father. My mother? That’s a whole ‘nother story!

I was originally a Physics major and one of my hobbies is designing lifting body craft. My son used to help me build and test models. Now? He’s working on his Masters Degree in Electrochemical Engineering for Aerospace.

I was fascinated by “supernatural” shows that played on “normie” relationships for some kind of effect. I grew-up watching reruns of The Munsters, The Addams Family, I Dream of Jeannie, Bewitched, etc. I was a weird kid.

Speaking of Bob Ross … does baking have happy little “accidents”? Hmm. Perhaps THIS is the origin of the phrase “bun in the oven”? I guess Sachertorte didn’t have quite the same ring to it.

Hide-and-seek, tag, chasing fireflies, skipping stones. There is a theory that childhood games are really our animal nature "at work". That just like a lion, bear or wolf – our kid years are spent practicing the skills needed to hunt and kill. Perhaps those we consider "evil" ... are simply those amongst us that never grew-up.

An unwritten "perk" of having kids WAY too early? I had six grandchildren by age 47. Math and family history calculates to 20 great-grandchildren by age 67 and 40 great-great-grandchildren by age 87. Will I see 100 great-great-great-grandchildren before they tuck me in to sleep in my comfy pine box?