funny ha ha?

so for those who might know the history of the writer, the old guy who adopted the writer's body when the writer was 14 years old (after entering the writer's life when the writer was ten or so years younger) was born on this date... too bad the old guy died late last year or he'd have been a centagenarian, centurian, centipede, whatever, however it might be spelled... too bad his sons are just like him and somehow usurped his will and left the writer with nothing, which is just what the writer expected in spite of the hope the writer knew was foolish from the start... too bad the mother died before he did so all her money went to him... the writer knew she lied when she said the writer was in her will, but that's the way that family was... they always lied cuz they couldn't deal with truth... anyway, it's the number 100 that the writer finds interesting... the writer wonders if the writer will live to 100... the writer doubts it...

the writer is not as somber as it might seem here, actually... just getting home from softball (subbed in for a friend's team) and went 2 for 2, a triple and a double, and five rbis and one run scored (left on third after the triple)... the game was called after two innings cuz we were up by 20 runs... good night, would have liked to play longer... long day at work with many complications (and still getting phone calls)... anyway, good day, better night, busy, tired, feeling good...

wonder if i will still be playing softball when i am a hundred... whatever is such a good place to be for me cuz i care more than ever there, just not needing anything... i miss needing a little, sometimes more, seldom a lot these days... alas and all, but whatever inspires my giggles... wish you were in a better place... i'll be around when you get there...

stay positive, you are stronger than you feel...