Que sera, sera cerebellum…

Spring still isn’t here. Do you know how I know this? Two words: Slug Brain.


I have an uninvited guest who invades my corpus callosum during cold weather.  Let’s call him Sluggo–assuming the copyright statutes on the Popeye franchise has lapsed. Apparently, Sluggo has decided to turn my brain into a collective.*

He has invited friends and they are slowly taking over the only unused space available–the squishy crevices in my cerebellum. He and his cohort hog the remote–watching the home shopping network at top volume. And for some reasons, their fearless leader keeps insisting that cheese is a fruit.  Sluggo is one pushy mollusk.

There’s popcorn everywhere and somebody drank the last of the orange juice, and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t me. I forget to look on the way to the bathroom and, invariably, there is a slippery trail threatening to break my neck. (The less said about this, the better.) Someone is going to get hurt.**

Anyway, if anyone wonders when the blog will finally start generating a buzz with it’s cutting-edge content and thought-provoking insights, ask yourself this: When will the gastropod extravaganza end and things can get back to normal?

Only Sluggo knows and he’s not talking.***

Asterisk Bedazzled Footnote:

*Resistance is futile…and leaves a slimy trail.

**I hurt my brain trying to understand the difference between a gastropod with a shell (snail) and one without (slug). And since that is the major difference between the two, that is saying something. I’m just not sure what…

***Send salt.


7 thoughts on “Que sera, sera cerebellum…

    1. It’s worth it for the foreword (if that’s what you call the blather that comes before the song) alone. I’m tempted to Google the directions for Jolton, but I’d be very sad to learn it isn’t a real place. Indeed I would. Thanks for my new slug-salting anthem favorite.


  1. Oh boy. I had one of those sluggo times myself lately. What day I can’t say. I read and watched tv and played word games ALL DAY and ALL NIGHT. At some point, I brought a coffee mug, two tea mugs (Can’t be arsed to go get the mug I’m already using AGAIN) and a glass and a bottle of soda into the kitchen, and just left them there by the sink. Of course there was Skinny Pop. I did eat fruit* and olives that day, and I had essentially half a pint of yogurt with some pineapple thrown in. Got yogurt all on my hands because the spoon slid. At some point, my family tried to lure me into cooking, but we had plenty of things for them to assemble on their own. It’s like they wanted a hot meal or something, I dunno. My claim to responsibility was that I’d taken the dog on a walk and fed the animals breakfast. That’s enough. I’m sure of it. Slept like a baby that night, too. LOL
    I’m not going to salt you. I think there may be times some of us actually need that.


    1. It always reassuring to know I’m not completely crazy…or if I am…that I am in good company. Thank you. This has happened frequently enough lately that I started Googling early-onset Alzheimer’s…thingyummies…you know, symptoms. That’s the word. Right. Sigh. I seriously blanked there. Anyhow, thanks for the misery every company likes…or words to that effect.

      Liked by 1 person

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