Funny/Not Funny

Oh, it is a laugh, at times. Hardy har har.
And it has finally started to rain. I am a human barometer, but most of the time I give it up for plain old old age and sagging everything that is the me.
Oh the woe.
Ah, shut up.
Take a pill. Why, that's the brightest thought I've had in days! Self medicate and press on. Physician, heal thyself. Don't mind if I do.
Church bells clang in the 'hood - they signal 6:15, for what reason, I know not, but you can almost set a clock to it.
Take me back to the Angelus at Noon, Saint Agnes - a black-top area, devoid of anything resembling a play area for kids, and swings and slides and see-saws. And penguinatious nuns, ready for the whatever brought forth by the busy minds of youth.
There was this whole culture going on with hyperventilation - breathing deep for some time and then putting one's thumb in their kisser and blowing while holding it back, all with a compatriot grasping you from behind as the world spun and you went out, dropping like dead weight.
This didn't last long, as neither did my education at the hands of the St. Joseph nuns. Three years, the third (the horror stories of this Sister Raymond Claire that I had for the brief few weeks before moving to a public school system - aye chihuahua!) cut off just in time.
Never an altar boy, somehow I can still rattle of the Lord's Prayer in that antiquated Latin that we had drummed into us all.
Pater noster, qui es en caelis, sanctifi.... and so on and so forth. And, yeah, that is definitely where the name of this place comes from - Rex Caelis being the nom de employed for the blogosphere.
Indoctrinated and indoctrinated to a fault. I believe. Something.
I believe we are getting some rain, but nothing to write home about yet.
Caught two of my favored shows on public access this afternoon - one of them is this classic one called "Unarius." A bunch of real space cadets from the San Diego area ("No - we are from beyond."), followed later on by some white-clothed being giving the old 1,2,3 with Raja Yoga of sorts.
Why do I even mention such? Beats me. Hardly into any of it other than for entertainment, I ate a bagel while Love was again discussed.
Love it. Need it. Turn it on - turn it off.
Having once been paid to watch TV, we cannot get enough of this particular medium anymore. My makeup is applied by the glow of a cathode ray tube. Please, someone, I need a flat screen.... and a little pancake over here.