So, like you know I mean don’t cause World War III. I signed up for Instagram last year with a pic, a phone number, and an email address so that I could check out the service. After looking at the site, it was another social media (use your computer) place that this old codger didn’t want to tackle at the time.
I forgot about the account for months until I saw an Instagram listing showing up on a Tom O. Williams search on Google. It’s my all-important, Tom O. Williams, Instagram listing. After a forgotten phone # and email address when contacting no customer service to try and delete the account, I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I will never get access, and that “identalty” will forever have a place among searches for Tom O. Williams on Google’s results. Thanks so much young bloods.
It’s been some time since I was here. That must mean that I am somewhere out there. I would like to find out whether I was, am, or will be as soon as time allows the matter to be addressed.
I find no fault with those who attempt to understand me as their subject. Personally, I prefer to leave that knowledge to the well-grounded, so that I can wrestle daily with the fascination of nothingness.
The last time I pondered the existence of nothing, it dawned on me that nothing must be something in its universally misunderstood form. Most people that strive to understand nothing fail miserably at such a noble undertaking. For me, it’s within this sought-after galactic body of knowledge that the secret to my living a fulfilled life has been found.
Have you ever thought about what it takes to be in first class. If you’re a letter you only make the cut if someone is willing to give you a stamp of approval. Passengers who fly first class probably set themselves apart from others because they want to reach the birthday party before the card they sent to a rich uncle arrives.
I’ve only been in first class once. That was in junior high school when I was a weekly champion in Miss Castleberry’s 7th grade class. I think I’ll pray for some first class time today to go with the memory of my mother’s cooking.
Thinking about the cause and effect dynamics of the younger generation’s smiles while they seek maturity results in a closing gap between this elder’s mature taste buds and a bag of snickers candy bars.
Once upon a time there was a slap happy frog named Herculeesa. She lived in a small pond full of power-hungry frogs. Every time she hopped to the beat of a big man; she bumped her tail.
One day Herculeesa was swimming in tall timber at the plant center. A man came up to her and told her that he could make her the most important frog in his huge pond. Herculeesa got so excited that she wrote a check to the big man. He invited Herculeesa to visit his pad so they could talk. When she got there the big man slapped her…?