the FRED BLOGGS blog
...sharing a random thought daily since 2007!
Cirrus clouds drift above me like whispers of dreams, painting the sky with a promise of freedom and endless possibilities.
Camp unfolds like an archetypal journey, a sacred space where the self is both discovered and transformed amidst the wild embrace of nature.
Feeling the rhythm of life pulse through me, my pacemaker keeps the beat strong when the world tries to slow me down.
Rocking through life, I can’t help but feel the rhythm of creation pulsing in my veins, a melody that sparks the beginning of everything.
Neglect is like a bad date—leaving me feeling overlooked and underappreciated. When I’m not the center of attention, I might as well be a forgotten cocktail at the bottom of the bar. Darling, if you can’t keep your eyes on me, you might just miss the best thing in the room.
Dresses have always been my little escape, a way to transform the mundane into something extraordinary. There's something intoxicating about slipping into a fabric that whispers secrets of glamour and grace, wrapping me in a world where confidence reigns supreme.
Insurgence is like a high-stakes poker game, where every move could either lead to victory or ruin. The thrill of challenging the status quo ignites a fire in me that few can understand, pushing me to play my hand with reckless abandon.
Riding is a dance between my spirit and the earth, a visceral communion where every movement resonates with the pulse of freedom.
There is no physical evidence to prove that tomorrow is Friday. We just have to trust that someone calculated it correctly at the start, and everyone has kept count reliably ever since.
Slipping on a mask feels like stepping into a new song, where every note plays a part in the dance of my hidden self.
At church on Sunday the local Vicar explained that he must move on to a larger congregation that would pay him more. There was a hush within the congregation. No one wanted him to leave because he was so popular. Fred Smith, who owned several car dealerships in the area stood up and proclaimed: 'If the Vicar stays, I will provide him with a new Mercedes every year and his wife with a Honda mini-van to transport their children!' The congregation sighed in appreciation and applauded. Sam Brown, a successful entrepreneur and publican, stood up and said: 'If the Vicar will stay on here, I'll personally double his salary and establish a Trust fund to guarantee private secondary school education for his children!' More sighs and loud applause. Agnes Jones, age 88, stood and announced with a smile: 'If the Vicar stays, I will sleep with him.' ...... There is total silence. The Preacher, blushing, asks her: 'Mrs. Jones, you're a wonderful and holy lady, whatever possessed you to say that?' Agnes's 90-year old husband, Joe, is now trying to hide, holding his forehead with the palm of his hand and shaking his head from side to side, while his wife replies: 'Well, I just asked my husband how we could help, and he said, 'F**k him'.
The allure of a temptress is a fierce challenge that ignites the spirit, beckoning one to embrace both the thrill of adventure and the perils of the heart.
The cyclone, with its wild and unrelenting fury, swept through the landscape like a tempest of forgotten sorrows, leaving in its wake a haunting reminder of nature's indifference to human fragility.
In the sacred circle of life, the moment a new spirit takes its first breath, I feel the weight of the ancestors whispering their blessings into the world.
Nothing tastes sweeter on a summer day than a juicy tomato fresh from the garden, reminding me of sun-kissed memories and simple pleasures.
Just saw the postman in Tescos browsing the yoghurt selection.
This morning, Siri said "Don't call me Shirley". Seems I'd left my phone in Airplane mode.
Got into a fight with my acupuncturist and stabbed him. He said he's never felt better.
The world has a funny way of bending to your will when you dare to believe that anything is possible, even in the darkest of times.
The East, with its rich history and vibrant spirit, beckons to those who seek wisdom and opportunity in the embrace of its traditions.
The figure before me, a tapestry of light and shadow, evokes a profound sense of wonder, as if each curve and angle were whispering secrets of the universe.
The teepee, with its graceful conical shape, always struck me as a delightful architectural embrace of nature, a cozy refuge where the stories of the wind seem to whisper through the canvas.
A conductor is like a shadow on the stage, guiding the music without ever needing to steal the spotlight.
In the depths of the ocean, the fish are not mere creatures; they are a symbol of our nation's strength and resilience, a vital resource that must be protected and harnessed for the prosperity of our people.
In the dance of clay beneath my fingers, I sculpt the whispers of ancient mountains and the songs of the earth, breathing life into each vessel that holds the spirit of creation.
Finding my peace is like a sweet melody that wraps around my soul. In those quiet moments, I let the world fade away and just breathe, feeling the rhythm of calm wash over me. It’s in that stillness where I rediscover the strength to shine brighter than ever.
Shred is like a good joke—if you don’t get to the punchline quickly, you risk losing the whole audience.
Fantasy has always been my escape, a world where imagination knows no bounds and anything feels possible. I often find myself lost in stories where magic reigns and heroes rise, dreaming of adventures that take me far beyond reality. There's something exhilarating about believing in the extraordinary, where every page turn reveals a new wonder waiting to be discovered.
The boy, with his boundless curiosity and infectious laughter, reminds me daily of the simple joys that life has to offer.
Every time I connect with my readers, I feel a surge of inspiration that fuels my passion for sharing my journey.
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