Debauchery: (n) excessive indulgence in sensual pleasures; intemperance.

I sit here just a little bit grumpy because unless I exaggerate—or even worse, lie—I cannot give you a great story about my personal debauchery.

I came close a few times.

I was alone and naked with several women who were willing to put up with my feeble attempts—when all of a sudden, I chickened out.

I’ve been offered liquor, drugs of all sorts and even invited to participate in a scam or two. I do believe I turned down most of these misadventures out of wisdom or moral fiber.

But I’m curious sometimes if I missed out on an exciting rendezvous by simply being afraid to jump in and participate.

The human race is a silly lot.

We extol the beauty and power of virtue while simultaneously hoping there are enough slipups and fumbles to keep things hopping.

We want our children to be virgins when they get married.

But we also want them to have the passion and energy of a Nevada prostitute or a Playboy mansion philanderer.

We are so foolish.

Matter of fact, the word “debauchery” itself is kind of self-righteous and tight-assed—because your debauchery and my debauchery would probably differ.

Your debauchery would be pointing out all the things you refuse to do that I do—and my rendition of debauchery would be much the same.



Cower: (v) to crouch as in fear or shame.

Sometimes a story is just a story.

It is told to make a point, hoping that the lesson can be learned more easily with the introduction of characters, props and surroundings.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

When we begin to believe that every story is a commandment or that every tale placed in a holy book is intended to be the immutable word of God, we not only threaten the world around us with our piety, but we drastically miss the point.

It doesn’t take long to discover this if you ever read the Good Book.

The story of Adam and Eve is not placed in the pages to warn of the danger of eating too much fruit or to suggest that blindly following the commandments of the Almighty is the best way to achieve a good human life.

The purpose of the story is to let us know what we should do when we inevitably fail. For let me tell you, there are only two pieces of ignorance on the Earth:

1. “I never make mistakes.”

2. “I always make mistakes and am not worthy.”

Both of these paths make you dangerous to the people around you and cripple you in your pursuit of living an abundant life.

The story says that Adam and Eve were not supposed to eat some piece of fruit in the Garden. Truthfully, I do not know what in the hell that means, for heaven’s sakes.

Nor do you. You can feel free to speculate on what the fruit might have been, the danger it offered, or parallel it with some action in our world today. But certainly the Creator who tinkered with our brain to form a psyche He called human was fully cognizant that saying “no” to such beings as us was an invitation to rebellion.

People do not like to be told not to do something.

“Thou shalt not” is the best way to set in motion “thou wilt.”

So the story of Eden is not about learning discipline, but rather, learning what to do when personal discipline breaks down.

Having eaten the goddamn fruit, Adam and Eve plotted, becoming liars, deceivers, cover-up artists and hiders.

They cowered.

Feeling that God was more interested in His rules and regulations than He was in them, they ran away in fear of His judgment.

They completely misunderstood.

Had they walked out together, naked as jaybirds, with their half-eaten apple in hand and presented it to God with a repentant heart, we might still be living in Paradise.

God was not trying to build a Paradise that was perfect, but rather, one where imperfection could be revealed without fear.

If your situation, your religion, your politics, your family, your spouse, your school or any other mortal man or woman causes you to cower, it can’t possibly be borne of goodness.

We were not meant to cower, just as we are not meant to be sin-free.

We were meant to boldly live, to boldly fail and to boldly repent.

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Cover: (v) to place something over or upon, as for protection, concealment, or warmth.

 “I’ll be fine.”

This is what I said to my hostess when she asked me if I might need a blanket. In that moment, I felt that I might be bothering her too much by requesting one—and the room seemed to be a really good temperature and I thought I could lay on the bed without the need of any kind of cover. funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

After all, I was just going to sleep. How much do you really need to protect you when you’re just heading for Sleeper Land?

She gave me a quizzical look when I refused additional “warmage,” as if to question my judgment on the matter, but wanting to be an ideal lady of the house, she honored my wishes, left the room and disappeared into her home, which was an unknown castle to me.

I brushed my teeth, I went to bed, and as I reached over to turn off the lamp on the nearby stand, I realized that I didn’t have a cover.

It was my fault. I had explained that I didn’t need one—but now that I was in my room and darkness was falling around me, I wanted a cover.

I nearly cried.

I didn’t know the house well enough to creep around looking in cabinets, searching for blankets, so I lay on the bed, very still, trying to convince myself that I would be content without being embraced by my cover.

I do not want to be overly dramatic…

Yes, I do. It was hell.

I found I could not sleep without having something over me. I felt naked, even though I was wearing pajamas. My shoulders were hanging out there to be seen by the night spirits, without apology. My legs were lonely.

I did not know what to do. I wanted to sleep but that didn’t seem covered.

So I got up, opened up my suitcase, began to pull out all my clothing, and tied pant legs onto shirt arms, with attached socks, until I eventually put together a really weird quilt.

It worked so well that after experimenting on four or five different combinations, I had everything covered, from my toes up to my chest.

I felt powerful again.

Yet as I lay down to go to sleep, I realized the top of my chest was unsheltered. Not wanting to get up to disrupt my makeshift blanket, I reached down into my suitcase, grabbed a pair of underwear and stuffed them under my chin.

At last…

Thank God Almighty.

Covered at last.

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Bare: (v) to uncoverDictionary B

I do not believe that I could ever be a nudist simply because it would be exhausting to pretend I wasn’t looking at other people’s private parts–similar to attempting to be interested in a boring person, proclaiming that all my children’s early drawings were fantastic, struggling to stay awake during a boring speech or finding a way to avoid telling someone I love that I’m a mere mortal and therefore incapable of offering the gift unconditionally.

Being naked is never a good thing because those who feel they look good without clothing are either deceived or ridiculously attractive.

I am neither. I am fat.

I have no memory of ever standing and looking down and seeing my genitalia.

Not only is that a great comedy line, but actually ends up being true. Now, it doesn’t mean that I don’t have such an apparatus; it just means that it’s not readily available for me to peruse.

So the times in my life that I’ve found myself baring my body have only occurred through hours, days, weeks and months … of first baring my soul. 

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Ascetic: (adj) characterized by the practice of severe self-discipline and abstention from all forms of indulgence, typically for religious reasons.dictionary with letter A

“What are you giving up for Lent?” the gentleman asked me.

Without hesitation I replied, “Lent.”

Forgive me. I don’t get it.

If we believe the story–I mean the one about God–His entire idea for human beings was to make a beautiful garden filled with excellent work, delicious food and sexual intercourse readily available (because everybody was naked).

Am I correct here? Maybe you don’t like my phrasing, but you can’t deny my facts.

So why would He all of a sudden turn into this prude who is angry with human beings for being human? So angry, it would seem, that He is constantly requesting that we do religious activities that are often anti-human.

  • For of a truth, I don’t think any Muslim would actually kneel on a rug to pray many times a day if his personal preferences were brought to the forefront.
  • Nor do I think any Jew would really like to abstain from bacon.
  • And Christians seem to have an inclination that unless they continually consider the suffering and death of Jesus Christ, they have missed the whole point of salvation.

I look at it the same way I did parenting. If I needed my kids to take out the garbage, I could either beat them into submission, or find a way to make it rewarding and fun. If I was going to be a crummy dad, I could insist they learn to appreciate the importance of garbage removal, but honestly, I realized that was never going to happen. So I chose to stimulate their intrigue with the chore by either making it a game or by offering some allowance.

I did this because my children are Homo sapiens and mortal–not little angels or gods.

If it is necessary to give up something to get to heaven, and I have no evidence of what heaven is really like or whether it actually exists, I more than likely will opt for the choice that is visible in front of me.

Human beings need to be entertained when they’re inspired, and preferably inspired when they’re entertained.

So that is why I have decided to give up Lent.

Because any God who is impressed by me sacrificing my Milky Way candy bars for forty days is probably going to find something else I do that pisses Him off.

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dictionary with letter AAbash: v. cause to feel embarrassed, disconcerted or ashamed: she was not abashed at being caught.

So I was thinking this morning about what my favorite nightmares were. I guess “favorite nightmares” is the definition of an oxymoron. Maybe I change it to “recurring themes in the night-vision terrors.” Unfortunately, that phrasing smacks of too much drama.

Anyway, there are three events which inwardly terrorize my soul and if they were ever outwardly duplicated, I would be embarrassed–abashed, if you will.

First: My brain conjures visions of me being naked in a room in front of strangers. It is the personification of revealing my shortcomings. The anxiety that permeates my feelings during those apparitions often awakens me with a start–heart racing, chill running down my spine. I know there must be people who are totally confident about the prospect being naked in front of others, but truthfully, if anyone is going to see me naked, they must be willing to apply for the job, go through a drug test and survive three months of probation.

The second dream of horror is finding myself in front of an audience, and as I fastidiously and faithfully offer my gifts, the auditorium is gradually depleted by the viewers departing one by one. There you go. Apparently I am extremely embarrassed by the prospect of being abandoned on stage based upon my ideas or persona.

And the final example is driving in a car or some sort of vehicle, heading off for a destination which for some reason or another, is never achieved or even looms on the horizon–a frightening mixture of being lost and fully aware that I am in charge of the steering wheel, which has deposited me in the wilderness.

I guess the key is this: if you know what embarrasses you and you can be honest about it, you can avoid being abashed.

So I don’t like to be naked unless there is great profit and blessing to it in front of someone who is very forgiving.

And I don’t relish rejection, so I will use some wisdom in avoiding those who take pleasure in critiquing instead of doing.

And getting lost or running late obviously terrifies my soul, so an earlier departure and an excellent set of directions is my best remedy to such a fiasco.

Embarrassment is often what befalls us because we fail to acknowledge its existence.