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Monday, January 5, 2009

"You sold me Queer Giraffes..." Oliver Reed.

Oliver Reed as the slave merchant in Gladiator.

The Character. The visual. Not the drunk.

I can then put a face on a God concept. Silly?

Whatever works.

Granted God didn't die in a Maltese Bar, arm wrestling sailors, after ingesting three bottles of Captain Morgan's spiced Rum, several shots of grouse, and a flotilla of beer.

But that's not important. When I pray, I need a face to hang it on.

I need to know who I'm dealing with.

My new disclaimer...yeah I know.

Okay, the old disclaimer was tired. The ideas were outdated and keeping me stuck in a place I don't want to be anymore...so now for something more refreshing.

I have recently changed my views regarding women. Seems I had some issues with the fairer sex due to past pain and self- centered fear. (Yes...duh applies.)

I'm done with that.

Being in recovery has helped me change my entire life, perceptions and attitudes. I cannot change my history but I can change my today and my future.

I recently realized that the women I know in recovery are some of the strongest, bravest, most gentle and kind teachers I have ever had. You exemplify integrity and spiritual growth, and I hope you know who you are.

Some may know of my past marital and relationship history and been a participant in them as well. It's past and that's where it stays...in the past.

I own my part in those failures but claim no more responsibility in any misery you may be experiencing. I am sorry, but it's time to get off the cross. We need the wood.


Thank you all...