Written by wordwaymike

Tuesday, 31 July 2007

Below, you will find my second submission to the company,
(Groovin on up!) that was gonna repair the deficiencies in the state of my groove.

It appears that my first attempt to quantify the current state of my grooviness was is some aspects, O.K., many aspects lacking.

They couldn't get a vector on my "groove" because I hadn't been entirely forthcoming.

Making it impossible for them to total the number of "skidmarks" on my spiritual underwear that would need to be sandblasted, and steam-cleaned into submission.

I was hoping that with this additional "confession" the repairs to my Groove could commence.

To: Get in the Groove co-ordinator

At; Groovin on up! Inc.

Subject: The additional information you requested.

I apologize for the wild tangents that the initial biographic cross-section of my bonafides took off on, in my first response to your request for; "present status of Groove" that you needed before repairs to my Groove could begin.

I now know that these are areas of my persona best left unexplored.

I will try harder to supply a simple sample of the man I am. As befits the parameters of the whole thumbnail sketch-hang-nail sketch- synopsis of my Groove concept.

I'm aware that my first narrative offering was more akin to a "police artist sketch" My bad.

To start with, I wasn't always a guy that was moving in the groove of life.

Oh no! As ashamed as I am to tell you this, I must.
(As it is a matter of public record, and you will find out eventually.)

There was a time in my life when I was a "Groovinile Delinquent!"

Please! Hear me out!

Then cast me out. If you must.

But my sad, and for the most part, near enough to true tale of Grooval loss, forgiveness, (all right parole), and redemption, is a cautionary tale, (on so many different levels) that might help some poor, unfortunate groove less creature, such as I was, to change their ways.

And by so doing, get "lucky".

Not just once, but periodically!

To see someone make that miraculous leap of desperation, excuse me, faith!

Accross that chasm of anti-groove!
(as I will call it for lack of a better word that springs to mind)

That elevates this searcher and seeker of Groove from a person that is scorned, up to the next level where he is merely pitied.

Much like a train wreck, this is a sight that you just can't quite tear your eyes away from.

From there it is just a few years in "pity's purgatory"
(it builds character!) before they crawl their way up to where those that have a recognizable "smidgen" of groove to call their very own reside.

Yes! "The realm of minions and gophers!" Becoming one of those that are finally, somewhat, tolerated!

And from there? Hey! Your guess is as good as mine.

For as we all know;
"The Groove Giveth."

But not nearly as often as the;
"Groove has the repo-man come and taketh away."

But we also know that the path upward from there has been climbed before. And will be climbed again.

But I wouldn't suggest a frontal assault on the "Throne of Groove"

I mean that place is heavily fortified! And those dudes and dudettes up there might be "in the Groove", but they have a real strong "take no prisoners" and "no solicitors" kind of attitude!

I mean, From right there at the wrought iron gate that blocks the drive way, "it is on!"

And on up from there to the main house. We're talking sniper teams, landmines and Groove knows what! That's a lot of open ground. They'd chew us up and spit us out!

And have you seen the canine patrol! "Sweet Jesus with a pork chop tied around his neck!!"

I'm talking Irish Wolfhounds! That speak with an Irish Brogue!

German Shepard's! That speak German! Fluently!

No, I think that were gonna have to lay siege to the joint. Starve em out. Smoke em out, or something...,

Err, pardon me for digressin' once again. The above was an example of how my groove-less mind would have tempted me with all the bright shiny things to be found at or near the Throne of Groove.

Things that mean nothing, or a little less at least, than being a living breathing repository of groove.

Sadly, this is the craven creature that was me.

In my formative years, when I was not yet fully formed, fully informed, routinely framed and rarely conformed to the ever changing eclectic standards of one who dwells within the city limits of groove.

These are the kind of thoughts that would have my groove- less soul salivating like some half starved hound in a Pavlovian bell ringing experiment! Conditioned response. I kept my response in top condition! At all times!

I could see the neon like glow that was thrown off by those that were imbued with the groove, but I had to be content with the mere scraps of groove that were tossed my way a few times in life, if I was willing to fetch or roll over.

But not nearly as often as someone in the Groove, while inebriated and distracted by the groovy hottie he was with accidentally dropped a wad of cash imbued with groovy vibes still attached, to the ground unnoticed.

Unnoticed by someone who had pockets full of groovy cash.
But not unnoticed by me!

So as you can see, it was in this way that I developed a lust for all things groovy. I must have them! I will not be denied!

I uhh? I?

I'll try and nail this sketchy thing I have to submit later.

After I have had some rest.

My bad.

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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