TERRY ROCHA

I'd like to meet:

“Who I’d like to meet?” is a bad question. It’s limiting, transparent, shallow.
Life gives us little treats: meeting an interesting person inside of a waiting room, meeting a witty person working at a counter, meeting your soul mate (for God sakes) inside of a laundry mat.
“Who I’d like to meet?” is a question that’s off course—headed for trouble.
Could you imagine if this question were the foundation (or formula) of how people could “Meet”?
Nobody I know can answer the question: “Who I’d like to meet?” because people don’t know who they want to meet until they meet them. That’s why it’s exciting! Not only that but-also, think about the people people wouldn’t meet.
[You] wouldn’t have met one person you cannot live without.
How’s this? I want to meet you if you’re visiting my web page. Is that plain enough—I can do better (I can). I want to meet you—send me a message. Let’s meet.
Unless of course you’re a xenophobe. Then you may read my blogs secretly inside the safety of your bunker.

What's On My Mind:INSECTS
I was staring at an insect this morning and started thinking. Do insects fart? Do they have personal property—like us; do they pass personal property down from generation to generation?
I bet they get diabetes—cats do.
Do insects consider humans extraterrestrial asses who continue to step on ‘their kind’? I bet insects have holidays, too. They get into costumes and share in large gatherings. We call these gatherings nests and colonies, and quickly exterminate them (insects call this—bad weather).
That could mean: we are “The Gods”. I guess it’s all relative.
Does all this mean dogs, cats, and birds are simply vehicles for insects when traveling? Dogs would be the equivalent of Greyhound, cats would be the equivalent of sports cars, and birds would be the equivalent of airplanes. Therefore, insects, have solved the gas crisis, cut-out the middle man and his fees, and got rid of standing in line.
Insects: who would have known?
ANGER MANAGEMENT
If you're angry, why should you manage it? Isn't anger the opposite of joy? If there's a balance to everything, an action for every reaction if you will, then shouldn't you manage joy? Maybe I'll start the first joy management psychiatric ward. My first patent would have to be Jerry Springer, he can fit the bill.
I'VE LOST IT
A sack of potatoes reminds me of a really unlucky guy with extra, really big, testicles.
MICROWAVES
Microwaves can almost cook anything. I've heard of cats, babies, but what about, smaller, more compact microwave with less profit in the margins.
GOOD BUSINESS
If I were a pimp, I'd offer health insurance at an affordable price; but I'd charge $600 bucks an hour, for career consulting. And every pimp guru must have his or her own how-to book, and mine would sale for a little under twenty thousand, six hundred, ninety-nine dollars. On sale now at Terry Rocha's, Pimping-Bitches-and-Used-Books.com.
PICKING ON THE LESS FORTUNATE
Soda. Now there's a tool to kill a certain section of the gene pool. All's you have to do is tell them it's safe to drink a pretty little can, mixed with manufactured chemicals. And you've successfully eliminated the middle class. And if you're an entertainer, like myself, they'll offer you a chance, in the longevity of your career, to be paid a considerable commission to tell the middle class to buy their products because I said it's cool. JFK never had it that bad—and they used a bullet on him.
PUT THIS IN YOUR PIPE AND SMOKE IT
They put excrement-collectors in the same section of your home as they do your personal hi-gene: and the place where 80% of humanity goes to perform the art of bathing. Just a thought.

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