Jane, get me off... that's all, just get me off...

That weapon will replace your tongue. You will learn to speak through it. And your poetry will now be written with blood.

**
I ramble at length below about, uh, you know, I am not actually sure what the hell it is all about, but perhaps it will stimulate conversation or something even sexier...
In the meantime...
We need one of these around here... hmmnn, tacos.
Dude, I linked out to Married to the sea a couple times now... but have you dug down deep, took a look at the t-shirts you can order... not for the t-shirts themselves necessarily, but the shots of the models wearing the shirts? Go here and click on the first shirt... holy shit I love that dude... then click on the rest of the shirts... yeah...
DUDE a Zombies Rights March to city hall that was protested... by Pirates!!! I love the world and if I have to I will sue for custody...

**

Sometimes I sit and I think. I think of things I should say and things I shouldn't say. The things I shouldn't say seem infinately more entertaining that the things I should say.
Why is that?
I mean, the things I should say seem to be things that would cause disruptions or unpleasant conversations. They put this fear into me, like, man, if I say that, whoa... who knows what would happen. My brain gets all tight and my sinuses start to tingle and my testes get all bunched up...
And, DUDE, the things I shouldn't say, it's funny, they are more likely to be the mean or sexy things that are not acceptable in general populations (perhaps) but would be so much nicer and fun to say. Simple things, really... Shut the fuck up, for example. or, quit your bitchin' and do something about it. Or my favorite, you know, I really don't give a flying fuck!!! Yeah.. man I feel so jazz just thinking about it... tearin' off a nice sax solo at midnight... go...
Those things don't give me that tight ass feeling...
When I try to analyze why it is that I can't say the things I should, or don't say the things I shouldn't, I come up with nothing... Generalizations such as: I'm a big puss, I have no social skills, ennui, malaise, etc...
So instead of actually doing these things, I allude to them... Speak metaphorically in a sing song fashion...
Like this...
So, I was all James Bond like at this one place where I spend a little bit of my time. I had noticed something was amiss and thought I should look into it. The fact I had indicated that my observances should not be possible, but the clues were all there... So a few times at this place, I placed some booby traps... like in the movies where bond pulls a hair out of his head and sticks it accross the gaps in a door or lays some powder down to see if it gets disturbed, then he knows that someone had gone through that door or openned his briefcase or whatever... so I did that... I noticed that things HAD been disturbed. I also noticed that clues that HAD been there before were now removed... Hmmnnn...
I also noticed that impliments towards a cause had been removed from this one place... there is only one use for this impliment, hmmnn...
See now, where the hell am I going with that? I could go on but I really don't want to deal with it... I was trying to be tricky yesterday with similar shenanigans, but the bait was never took or I never pulled the trigger or something...
When I quit smoking (every time I quit) I realize now that one of the issues was how to redefine myself... What will I do with my time, who will I associate with, what flare will I have? There are all sorts of romantic visualizations that I had that went along with smoking... I still picture myself as kerouac leaning up against a wall having a smoke and thinking hard about how beat he is...
I don't feel any definition any longer. No more bad boy, no more crutch, no more focus... Smokers have a purpose, goals... they go places and talk to people, you know, socialize...
people call it disgusting, but some people say the same thing about eating meat, or drinking, or watching football, spitting, swearing, farting...
Dude, I am SOOO Morrissey, except way less homo... I mean, really...

**
Must watch Dead Man... Why??? Delicious Quotes

a Wicked Little Critter...

Bejeweled has to be the greatest invention on the internet EVER!!!
Dude, I downloaded the full trial version yesterday, right, and it gave me a full hour to sample it... HOLY SHIT!!! They got this game on there, unlimited, right, it is a never ending game... I played that fucker for the FULL HOUR... no shit... it was fantastic... I am all matching up these little colored things into rows or 3 or 4 or 5 and it goes BOOM... and like, every time it would go BOOM I would giggle like a little girl, and then, and then, if you did it right, and got like a bunch in a row, more than 3 and then it goes boom and the chain reaction causes more to line up and go boom and the game starts telling you things, like, "good job" and "AWESOME" and "Fantastic" and "you have a large package" and stuff, and I tell you I was GLOWING from all the kudos and shit... what's that stuff called? when people boost you up and make you feel good about yourself? Uhh... Compliments? Sure... anyhow... I am just sitting there click click click click and BAM - AWESOME!!!
And DUDE... it gives you HINTS!!! So, like, if you are sitting there looking at all the pretty sparklies and forget to click on things it will flash up on the screen where you should probably make your next move, and you know it is always RIGHT THERE IN FRONT OF YOU... but it don't care, cause you can make the move and it give you a shout out telling you how AWESOME!!! you are for doing what it just told you, like some old beatnick jazz dude, telling you, go man go, click it, YEAH!!! and snapping its fingers at you and you are all like in the groove throwing down some tasty, uh, grooves...

I wish Bejeweled was my girlfriend. Sitting there, watching me do things. Flipping through the channels, she would be all like, YEAH! and AWESOME! and BAM! and I would just do my thing...
Doing the dishes, I could like, load the dishwasher and she would be like YEAH! GOOD JOB! YEAH!
Dude, if Bejeweled were my girlfriend, we could be, like, doing it.. you know, toasting the buns, or perhaps gilding the lily or even a mexican hotplate (not that, gross) and I could get all distracted and not doing the thing correctly or not seeing the "spot" right there in front of me and she would be all like popping up with hints (RIGHT THERE ASSHOLE) and I would be all like, oh, duh, there it is, and I would hit that spot like a pro and she would be all like PERFECT and NICE MOVE! and AWESOME!!! and I would be all like, bam bam bam, clickety... and then, when you hit some point you get this rumble and it is like, ROUND COMPLETE and then it goes, like ROUND 8 or something, and you get right back into it.. bam, click, suck, click, hint, AWESOME!!! boom boom boom... and my bejeweled girfriend wouldn't be all like, you want ANOTHER round?!? She would be all like, you go boy, and AWESOME!!! and stuff...

You know what sucks though?
Dude, in the online limited game, right, you are all feeling good about yourself, bangin' away and shit, and the game is telling you how you rock and are an awesome lover, I mean, player, right, then all of a sudden you get this nice row together and all of a sudden, all of a sudden it is like "NO MORE MOVES" and it JUST STOPS!!! I mean, WTF... It is CRUSHING... serious. I am f'in serious... after like 20 minutes of telling you how HOT you are it is all of a sudden breaking up with you or something... YOU SUCK!!! just out of the blue... like, Hey Baby, Hey Baby, Hey Baby, restraining order... and you are telling the cops you never even touched her and you don't know where she got the bruises... Uh...

Oh, and playing the trial version, right.. I am ROCKIN' IT HARD... like some sort of lambada or something, and all of a sudden it is like BANG! free trial OVER, fork over some cash... just like that, right in the middle... it like, man, you are hittin' it and all of a sudden your girlfriends husband comes home and you are jumping out the window with your clothes in your hands and losing your car keys in the bushes... WTF?!?

I got my lovely wife playing it, but man, it is sooo, strange... it is like, she is doing these moves and the game is telling her NICE MOVE and YEAH! and stuff and I am like, you M'F'er... and there ain't noone's jaw to bust, its just a game, but I am all sitting there and it is SICK... I was all squirming and shit while this DUDE was saying things to my wife and she is EATING IT UP and I am thinking, man I could never be a swinger, man, cause it is like watching her making out with some other dude with me sitting right there and she is all enjoying herself and I just want to shout, get your hands off my wife you fucker...

Overall though, Bejewelled is frickin' awesome... it makes me feel like I have just been hugged... and I matter, and somebody loves me... I love the internet...

***
Oh, in an effort to drive more traffic to my blog, I am going to tag this post with "GloryHole" and "crust" just to see what happens...

laying on the hands of destiny...

I was thinking, the world would be a much better place if I were allowed to lay my hands on people, in kind of a "healing" gesture, really...
Especially on the bus...
Take today, for instance... there was this dude sitting in front of me, an old twitchy dude... he kept his eyes on the traffic let me tell you. He was lookin' this way and that. He would have his eyes on the road ahead and then, every time a car or truck passed us on the right his head would snap over (to the right) and keep an eye on it, until finally his eyes were facing front again, then he would do it all over again... Now that may sound kinda sublime or not so bad, but consider we were going slower than most other traffic on the road and there were about a thousand vehicles passing us, his head was snappin to the right every couple seconds... man he was twitchy... Now, if I were allowed to gently, but quickly, reach out and put my hands on him, say to the side of his head, FWAP!, I could probably have cured him... maybe not the first time, but probably after laying my hands on his 10 or 12 times the cure would probably have taken.
"Oh, DUDE!" you are probably saying. One twitchy old fucker probably isn't proof that you should use your natural talents and delicate hands on people. True, but consider this.
There was this little honey sitting there on the bench, she looked miserable. Besides having an unfortunate jaw structure, and being a redhead, which automatically makes her certifiably insane (the world would be a much better place if I were just allowed to diagnose peoples mental shortcomings) she was all twitchy, also. I could tell that her thong was probably asunder and she was too embarrassed to do anything about it. Now, with divine permission I could have gently gone on up in there and using my soft hands and general understanding of where things go, I could have put her stuff back in its places... made sure the pieces were at the right angles and stuff, you know cradling here and not binding there... of course I would have been glowing with a divine light so noone would think anything of it, they would have thought it was just any other appearance of an angel doing what angels do.. adjusting bra's and thongs and other misc pieces of female goodies... Hell, there might have even been applause when I was done and the chick was sitting still again... still and satisfied.
I know, I know, the laying on of hands is not always gentle, but I would be up for it. Like the old insane unhappy ugly freak woman that was sitting there over and up from me, right there on the aisle. Not sure exactly what her problem was, but I think it had something to do with the large black woman that came in and sat down behind her. I think she bumped the seat in front of her with her ampleness a couple times. The ugly woman turned around and gave the stink eye a couple times, not sure who to exactly, she just kinda turned her head around and looked up towards the ceiling, but her eyes where going in different directions, so she may have been giving the stink eye to her knee, or the floor or the hand rail or something, not sure... but she was being REALLY aggressive with it, like lasers or something, just throwing it all around and not caring who it fell on... I knew, deep in my heart, that what was required was the abrupt laying on of hands to her temple... BAM!!! POW!!! like Batman and Robin but with a purpose of healing. KAPOW right to the temple and her eyes would have gone back to where they oughta be and the stink would have been wiped right off her face... and the crowd goes wild... people would have been patting me on the back as I left and I would have been all, like, uh, Jesus or something... no, like, Ghandi... wading through the crowd with compassion and love for everyone, no hubris, not expecting any rewards other than the satisfaction of a job well done...
Now that I think of it, I could have continued my missionary work (heh) on the walk to work on probably 3 different bums, the garbage man, whoever owns that barbecue place, the facilities guy here, and that one dude that called me... it would be like on ash Wednesday (is it Wednesday? whats that day, with the smudges and stuff?) and everyone would know by the red marks on their cheeks that they had been touched... or their underwear would be in comfortable positions or something...

**

So last night I was "gilding the lily".. what?!?, NOOO...

**




**

The interweb RAWKS...
Somebody should buy me things, starting HERE
Somebody should close their eyes and imagine how much fun we would/could/should have in Austin at ACL and/or SXSW. Happy, finally Happy!!!
Oh, Dude... remember how we were going to get away, one day... THIS is what I am talking about.
OK, Baby, you got IT. Oh, and the TC Electronics M350 looks like friggin' FUN with a capital F and U and N. Oh, and the Digital Reference DR-CX1 Side Address Cardioid Condenser Microphone is well thought of, so that duo is right on!!!

I got my mojo workin', it just don't work on you...

My lovely wife went to school yesterday, back to school, something like that. Ultimately it is/was to get the little viking into a preschool that wouldn't end up costing more than our car payment and monthly rent combined... whatever happened to putting these kids to work in the fields? anyhow...
Anyhow, the little viking, she puts on her brave face and kicks ass at her little school, pretending to be all emotional, just to catch the other kids off guard when she whips our her whoopin' stick...
So the lovely little lady, she goes walkin' into her choral class, you dig, and the gal in there is all like, "you all suck!!!" and "What are you doing here, wasting my time, you cockroaches" and stuff like that... and mentioned that this was a 100 level class so everyone will make it on the choir, just have to show up... BUT there IS a 200 level class, if you want to get into this class you must audition. Only the best of the best will make it. If you have any fear or any misguided notions that you are a good singer just because your husband says you are, then you should not even try. Get out of my sight. Line up single file, you will all have a tryout... tut tut...
Or something like that...
So anyhow, the wife goes struttin' in there and starts to sing and the director stops her right there... she is all like, shhh, listen, and puts her hand to her ear and looks around... did you hear that? she asks... my wife has no idea what she is talking about. So the director waves at her and she starts singing again. Hold it, there it is again!!! the director says and looks around as if to try and figure out where the sound is coming from... she seems very distracted. So my wife starts singing again... and keeps singing... the director gets up and starts walking around the room, trying to find the sound, finally stopping in front of the wife... she stares, in disbelief or something, and listens and listens, getting all wide eyed and horny and stuff, and she abruptly creams her pants and falls to the floor, gasping...
Stop, stop!!! she says... my god, that is the most beautiful thing I have ever heard, she says... I must have you... Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, and these angels popped their heads in, they are all like, oh, sorry, we thought this is where the angels came to sing, we heard one of our own, and shit... The sun was shining in the door and there were rainbows and flowers all of a sudden...
YOU!!! shouted the director... YOU ARE COMING TO CARNEGIE HALL IN APRIL!!! YOU WILL BE MY *STAR*... SUPERSTAR!!!
So yeah, for real, my old lady is gonna be singing at Carnegie hall in April with this choir... and I'm not even making it up... and she really is an angel, heavenly even.
***

marriedtothesea.com
***
The bus routes have changed. It is kinda freaky. They got rid of 4 of the buses on my route, 2 in the morning, 2 in the evening. So now, in the morning the bus has been PACKED. And it has been one of the fancy new buses, with air conditioning and stuff... The Saugsage has had to move to a new seat and now has to share with someone. I don't recognize most of the others on the bus anymore, it is kinda freaky. They all checkin' me out when I get on... I have been having to stare them down, which is kind of a long process, going down the line, starin' down one person at a time... some of them only take a second to stare down, some a full 30 seconds... We are halfway to Seattle before I have finally fucked everyone off... I usually end up sitting up on one of the high benches, looking down on everyone... literally.
And sometimes I can really enjoy it. Kicked back in your favorite chair, looking at the traffic, not a care in the world. You see the most interesting things (really?!?), like a crazy asian couple with a huge machette type knife cutting up apples and noone cares cause they are old and asian and obviously not terrorists. You get to see people sleeping and wonder why they are so tired. And if they go home and fall asleep on the couch like that and someone that actually loves them has to look at them with disgust as they drool and/or flop over... And my favorite is the musical chairs. Someone gets off at a stop and there is a rush to grab their prime seat location, and the person that gets that seat, their previously owned seat is then bum rushed for its prime location. And then one of those people end up getting off at the next stop and just HAD to be 10 ft closer to the front...
DAMN!!!




Oh, yeah, so today, apparently there are some retard wars going on in the interweb or something... So this one dude, I will call him "chuck", anyhow, "chuck" mentions to this other dude, I will call him "korean dude", about how he can check his bags and provides some statistical data to support his claims. "korean dude" counters with his own statistical data and further fronts that "chuck" doesn't know the whole picture and should shut his trap or he will shut it for him, but not really. Other such "quifs" travel back and forth to ME. I try to frantically type the new data into the interweb so the other party can hear about it and I get to hear about how apparently, comparitively speaking, if you compile their data into a single document, I am a giant amongst men... and I love them both, in a non familial way, meaning that I would or could bend either of them over and treat them like the little bitches they are if they don't give me my props... but they apparently prefer to jack each other off on a regular basis so I will probably not need to get into the manpie... so to speak.. oh, I read something about this move called the "london bridge"... does not sound appealing... the internet is full of that crap... urban dictionary, apparently you can take any little phrase like "riding the bus" or "pettin' the puddin'" and someone has decided it is nasty... I mean really, "gilding the lily"...


Linky Dinky
Google Bus Thing
75th Anniversary Aistream Some day, Baby!
TIKI

gonna destroy us all...

Sometimes it all just comes together... I think...
Wasn't expecting anything this morning, if anything I woke up full of dread... it is so easy to fall back to sleep at 4am. I could do it every friggin day is what I am telling you. Somehow I don't though.
Most mornings I wake up when the alarm goes off (that's what they're for, yo) and my first thought is DAMMITT!!! and my second thought is something along the lines of how I should call in sick, sometimes my next thought is something along the lines of what would happen if I didn't do anything, just turned off the alarm and went back to sleep... I could get away with it a few times, I'm sure... call in arount 10am, sounding sad or contrite and really really sorry and shit... Kind of a sucky way to start off the day.
I remember this one job I had, somewhere, the details are fuzzy, but I seem to remember that I didn't need to set the alarm at all, would just wake up in the morning with plenty of time to get ready for work, motivate myself, you know... and I seem to remember appreciating this at the time, how I recognized that this was pretty sweet and I couldn't imagine having to play by "the mans" rules... I also seem to remember their not being any chirrens around, or any fantastically beautiful wife...
But, in the meantime, things fall apart... thus is the something something of the universe, something about tides, and how everything that rises must converge, or something about how things fall apart, oh, hold it, thats where I started...
Yeah, it is funny, but not funny ha ha... I totally feel like a leaf, floating down some rushing river, sometimes busted a move around all sorts of rocks and twigs and shit, then suddenly get hung up on some silly little something, more like slammed up against a big old boulder and then get pounded by the rushing water... the smart thing for the leaf to do would be to just let the water pound you, think of it as a massage or therapy or something... like getting raped, if it is going to happen anyhow you might as well just relax and enjoy it, eh? yeah? right??? I mean, if you know they are going to make you "squeal like a pig" anyhow, wouldn't you just squeal as loud and energetically as you could?
And then you wait a few minutes and everything rights itself again... damn, I am so zen and shit...
I have soooo little to say... really... I could run into friggin' Voltaire right now and would be all like, eh, not having anything to say...
Voltaire - You wanna go have a drink with me?
Me - NO, thanks
Thomas Jefferson - So, how has this democracy thing turned out?
Me - Well, you know, eh...
The Buddha - your finger is not the moon
Me - OK
Bush - I am the decider!
Me - Shut the fuck up!


This is from the Triple Door. Beyond being a master of writing things, I am also big in the Jazz "scene" as hipsters like us like to call it. Notice the composition.

not gonna make out with anyone

Tired...
I could never survive being captured by the enemy and tortured with like, sleep deprivation and loud music... after 1 day I would be a nervous wreck, crapping all over myself and crying... My personal belief is, if I DO get captured by the enemy, to spill my guts immediately and also change my allegiance... I just hope the enemy is cool and shit, cause I would hate to have to become some sort of militant christian mercenary or something...
I hope the enemy is a gang of lesbians who's only purpose in capturing me is for my superior genes... I will be put into production, producing new amazon warriors... locked in a comfortable room with velvet walls and a nice stereo and maybe some paints or something... kept naked and oiled up at all times... just waiting for a little bell to ring and the door to open to do my sex magic...
They will capture me and sit me in a chair and they will be all dressed like Xena or something... all boobs and legs and stuff, and they will shine a light on me and cut my clothes off and start heating up this oil (not too hot) and then they will throw on some Tori Amos or something and I will be all like, WHOA!!! hold it there, no need to get all brutal, I will talk, I will tell you everything... and so, after I spill my guts they will demand that I pledge my allegiance and, of course, I will and they will need me to prove it, and I will be so hysterical and worked up at that point I will have sex with all of them, and eventually have Stockholm Syndrome and will totally believe in their cause and my place in their organization... I would probably end up actively fighting any rescue attempts, because that is how the human brain adapts, you dig...
I will probably feel bad if I do get rescued and un-brainwashed and will have to apologize to my lovely wife for having to have intercourse with all these hundreds of lesbian amazons...
She will probably be all like, why didn't you tell them you were fixed and can't get them pregnant, but I have that all figured out, because in this scenario I feared for my life, I had to do it and figured if I told them I had been snipped they would kill me... plus I was brainwashed...
I don't think it ever happens that way though, you know... from what I understand, when you are captured by hot lesbian amazons you never make it out alive...
That would probably make a good movie though... some sort of action adventure movie, where I am supposed to go undercover and "deliberately" get captured in order to infiltrate the organization... Working undercover for the man... discover all their "secrets", destroy the infrastructure, kill the leader in an all out action sequence involving hand to hand combat... it would have to be a big budget flick, full of "explosions" and a montage... We should cast Uma Thurman as the head amazon, and Christina Ricci as her deputy that ends up falling in love with me and helps me with my mission, but in order to do so she must betray her lover, played by Neko Case... I, of course, will play, me... To keep it all on the up and up I will have my lovely wife there as a consultant and planner... she can help the girls with their "lines", kind of a walk through...
Yeah, it will make us all rich... I need someone to help me with the story board, probably will need to come up with a short in order to sell it to the studios, so I will need all of you (ladies) to volunteer for that... may need another camera or 2, just to get all the angles... yeah...

**

HOLY SHIT...
What was THAT all about?
Oh, hey... you see down there at the bottom, where you can put "tags" on your post? Dude, I put "scat" there the other day, you know, I got my own definition, much like Mr. Seattle has his own loose definition of "scat" (I don't think the word means what he thinks it mean)... Anyhow, I was looking at my stats and found that I got a weird normal of hits on my site due to people doing a search for "scat"...
Friggin' Freaks...
I had no idea such things in the world actually went on, well, I mean, I did, but I never actually thought... I mean, what the hell... I guess it ain't that unusual, you could be sitting there and think to yourself, hey, I'm bored, you know what would break the boredom? Scat. Happens all the time... that's how you end up at those weird sites at 2am and downloading virus after virus and have to explain to someone that you have no idea how these pop ups keeping happening... and your homepage gets changed to something something... ehhh...

**

So, tonight, going out, some people from out of town are now IN town...
So I am piggy backin' in on a paid deal at the Triple Door. I am totally full of mixed emotions on this, not sure why, for sure... something about the need to get home after being out and stuff... I have self control and such, but I am already tired, and adding a couple drinks to that, ehh... I will be fine...
On the other side, Mr. Seattle has been known to be there, hang out there, something... and I have this plan, this really fucked up plan... see, I have my camera, and I am pretty sure he does not remember what I look like, so, if I happen to see him there, I am gonna act like I am really friggin' pleased and excited to see Mr. Seattle in the wild, and see if I can get my picture taken with him... and him being the comedian that he is, I will see if he wants to have some fun with it and give me a big kiss on the cheek... and get a picture of it, of course... how confusing and fucked up would THAT be? To see your old man getting kissed by your ex old man... and to be able to perpetrate this would be fantasgreat... or interesting, or something.. Apparently, in this moment of weakness, I am alluding to having issues with his existence... although it is all of my own special making... nothing left behind it... you dig... I just don't really see what is so special about him... not a fan, not really...
I think I am just gonna leave it at that... hopefully there will be some interesting pictures at the end of the night...

While we remain in the shadow of summers now past

Since I didn't really have much to say today, I will tell my story in pictures...

This is the view from my desk if I turn my head ever so slightly to the right.

If I turn around, but not so far that I am looking at the nice Korean that lives across the hall, and look up a bit and across the room, I can see outside!!!



And this is down the aisle, the long lonely aisle towards nowhere special... down there, and on the left is where my nephew sits... also on the left is this other dude, and on the right is the Korean gentleman (you can see the back of his head) this other dude, then this chick, then this dude who is in charge or something, then a chick, and another chick and then some other dudes...

New Graffiti



I hadn't been over for a while so I figured since it was raining and the sky was dark (like my soul) I would walk down the tracks and see what was new... I was not disappointed...



These people, whoever they are, have talent... This wall is amazing.

As I turn my back on the city, this is what I am turning my ... back... on... uh, see, tracks and the city and the grey sky... I feel like I am finally home. Evil sun has disappeared.

all that you will hear, just the sound of my voice darlin'

Talk like a Pirate day my Aarsss... heh, Aarghgh...
My Pirate name is Captain SaltyCawk...
I was going to be Seaman saltyCawk, but I decided to rise to the occassion.
Heh...
*
Yesterday, when I got on the bus in the morning, I was about to rip the driver a new "A" hole. I got to the busstop on time, I kept MY side of the bargain, but then the prickhole shows up late, again... So I had my "A" hole ripper out and was about to do my art when I noted that the whole right side of the bus was taken up with chitty chitty bang bang or something... I sat down. I recognized. It was this wheel chair type thing, you know the ones, not like the little rascals, they are like recliners with 6 wheels and this joystick, like the person sitting in one is not so much crippled as much as just lazy... AND, in addition to this big ass rolling recliner, they had I something like 6 different duffle bags and shit hanging off the back... Every time we hit a bump or came to a stop the back of the chair looked like it was about to snap off, way overloaded... I was mesmerized, I was all like, what in the world (for real)... So I was looking at the perps. I had seen them before, one afternoon last week when the bus was running late they were also on it... There were 2 of them, a dude and a chick. The chick looked like maybe she was blind, for two reasons, one is that she had this kinda blank look on her face like her eyes wouldn't focus on anything, the other is because the dude was so friggin ugly, but more on him later... So this chick, the whole ride into Seattle, was combing her hair, just pieces of it, though... she had a hand full of hair and just kept running this little black comb through it... over and over and over and over... I figured out that she could see cause I saw her look at something, but the rest of the time it was like she couldn't be bothered to pay attention... She was a low talker..
The dude, he was ugly (with a capital U, except he sucked so hard I didn't want to waste the time pressing the shift key)... His eyes were all over the place, different directions... for a minute I thought he was looking at me cause 1 eye was in my general direction, although the other wasn't, then it was and the other wasn't, then neither were, but then both were but not at the same time... but his nose was pointing at me... He was all over the chick, the type of guy that you see that has to put his arm around his property even though it means his arm is all uncomfortable and he can't actually reach around her. So she would talk and he would put his face right up against hers, then he would talk into her ear, but not like at a whisper, just normal, and she wouldn't flinch...
So we were bouncing around and she was whispering and he was talking into her ear (DUDE, the talked nonstop the whole trip...) when the dude suddenly grabbed the rail and pulled himself up and reached around to get a bus schedule and something looked really strange about him... then I realized HE DIDN'T HAVE A LEG!!! or HE ONLY HAD 1 LEG!!! or ONE OF HIS LEGS WAS GONE!!! at the knee... Normally I wouldn't think nothin' of it, but he was so strange that this was just too much, not literally, but you get my drift. I just sat there and stared... first at the chair, then the chick combing her hair, then the dude and the spot where the rest of his leg should be, then up to the dudes eyes (all over the place) then over to the chicks face (completely blank) and over to the multitude of bags...
**Side note: ok, so people are people and we all need to get places, and some people don't have cars, but where the hell? When you are like crippled enough to need a motorized chair and also need to carry everything you own with you, where the hell are you going? I am really not thinking too hard about this because I am afraid of the answer for some reason**
So I was getting dizzy looking at these folks, and I wanted in the worse way to scooch over and engage them... Have you ever seen anything or anyone so fucked up that you want to sit down like some sort of scientist and like interview them or something? I wanted to crawl into their heads, sit down to coffee somewhere and after some idle chit chat get right to the nitty gritty and say, ok, so what the fuck?
But I didn't...
Oh, today the snaggletooth spoke. You know that ex con construction dude I mentione (apparently his name is Alberto or he stole Albertos jacket), well he has this buddy on the bus, chicano dude, looks like an ex con also, but probably was just a misunderstanding. Anyhow, this dude was sitting next to the snaggletooth and he made small talk or something and SHE STARTED FLIRTING with him... it was wild... she was all giggling and shit, hit him on the arm a couple times, was letting the light glint off her snaggle, you know, all the typical things that like normal girls would do... and here she was, acting like a regular girl... dude was all like, Oh, shit... he pulled his cap down over his eyes and pretended to fall asleep... she tried to keep talking and stuff, did everything but puff up her tail and stick her ass in his face (thank goodness it never got that far) and he just hid... she copied him, pulled her hat down, pulled up her hood, pulled another hood on top of that, rested her arms across one of her many fannypacks and nodded off...
**
I miss my old lady... seems like we are always a million miles apart...
Selah...

making it hard

Yearrghghgh...
A few years ago, when I was working at this one job, I had to go to the dentist. I had pain or something, perhaps, I don't remember. But I went there and I had apparently split a tooth. OUch. They looked around a bit and they are all like, DUDE!!! you have like 22 split teeth, what have you been chewing on, rocks??? Bones, I told them, Bones of the defeated.
So they fixed the one that sucked the hardest, or worsest, or something. They said I should be good, but the other ones are gonna need to be fixed.
A few years ago, at this place, I was eating some candy of some sort and suddenly something happened. My tooth fell apart. Big old hunk came off the side. I went to the dentist. They were all like DUDE!!! and were about to say something but I reached out and gave the doc a nice tap in the testes, pop, and he shut his trap... that is how I roll, yo... anyhow, they took out this stone, like a rough piece of gravel, and ground down the split tooth, kept pouring whisky in my eyes so the burning would distract me from the pain in my mouth, that was the theory at least, but I wasn't having any trouble with the pain in my mouth, pain is just pleasure confused (I was deep then) so I was actually ingesting the whisky through my eyeballs... it was sweet...
So the Dentist is all like, you only have 25 more split teeth, we can take care of them when they become a problem...
So here I am, today, apparently perhaps having an issue in my mouth. It is like the opposite of a party, it is like a riot or something. Well, not a riot, more like a unlawful gathering. The gum around the rear top tooth is sore and if I poke it with a paperclip it bleeds. I am hoping that I just got a piece of metal shard up in the gumline and it is festering, or perhaps a hair worked its way up between the tooth and the gums and needs to be dug out... you know, steel from chewing on bumpers and misc steely things, and hair from... stuff...

Or perhaps it is all this hard living doin me in... tooth is ready to come out and is letting me know by being really really sore... it is like a hint or a clue or something... but I am not sure what it is trying to tell me...

Based on my past experiences with Dr.'s I have to assume that there is nothing wrong. That I am a super big puss and what I am experiencing is akin to a tiny little splinter and going to see someone about it would be a HUGE waste of that persons time... and at best I will get a finger up my butt (yes, even from the dentist, what is it with dentists and needing to stick their fingers up your butt? I really can't figure out what that has to do with checking my teeth, thank goodness they give me all that Nitrus before hand... although being on nitrus and having all those flashbulbs going off while they document the rectal probe kinda fucks with my mind) and maybe some Tylenol 3's if I whine enough... Oh, and the dentist just loves to bill me like $500 regardless of what is done and how long it takes... somehow that is always my share, like $533 dollars... I think the $33 is for the privilege of charging me $500. I am suprised they don't tack on a couple extra buck admin fee for tacking on the $33 dollars to the $500.

I think I am gonna go with letting it fester for a few days, hopefully it will come to a point where it will either quietly just go away or explode in a fireball of pain and anguish and I will get to go on a spirit quest... perhaps the blood poisoning will set in and I will start to see blinding lights, and people can say, something about a spiritual reawakening and I will get so pissed off I will come back from the brink just to slap someone silly... Dude, maybe the gangrene will set in and they will have to amputate my head, they will keep my body alive just for the package... people will line up for miles to give me a spongebath... just to take a peek...

Damn, imagine that, I always thought it would be the smoking that did me in, but in the end it was just a bad ice crunching habit... and by ice I mean bones, dirty bones of long dead Vikings, I chew them like chicharones, day old chicharones, extra spicey, my lips all red and burning, their bloodlust fills my soul and my eyes are all full of fire and bloodshot from laying awake all night making this shit up... Heh, that will be funny, everyone will laugh...

Of course, I sometimes imagine I am at the top of a cliff and I hock a loogey (loogie?) over the edge, and it gracefully glides down down down (nice arc on it) to finally splat in a circle, frothy shrapnel launches in a nice pattern around the cirle creating some abstract art in the dust and everyone is/was just standing around waiting for it to happen, and when it does they all clap, and when they are done clapping they just stand and watch as the dust slowly settles back down, then they turn and walk away and I don't imagine I can ever spit like that again...

eating fart bombs from the cupcake fairy...

We went to dinner,
I had the fish and chips... just to make a point.
The dynamics of the people and the place were dynamic. Our waitresses name was Vicky. There was mention of Indian Fry Bread, and I was all edgy because there were indians all over... shh... and every couple of minutes this chick would walk by saying Keno but not looking in either direction and I was reminded of the old days in Seattle when you could go to the Seattle Center and you would walk by these dudes and they would say Green Buds or just Buds but wouldn't look at you so you couldn't be sure, unless you were looking for some, then you knew it was code... and I was all freaked because this chick was doing this and my INLAWS ARE RIGHT FRIGGIN THERE, DUDE... but I was in the zone, I get that way sometimes, in the zone, when I get all wide eyed and sociable like in appearance, and can make small talk like I am not really controlling my mouth, it is FREAKY DUDE cause I am just sitting there like there is some puppet master with his hand up my butt and I am conversing back and forth like I like it...

The cupcake fairy came today, and left cupcakes... Literally, their are cupcakes on my desk and they were left there by a fairy, although I think he prefers to be called a bear or something...

Dude, you know what, I have written and rewritten this crap... see how much I love you (and you and you and you)... I suffer thinking that things are not craptacular enough for you...

See, that is how my day is going. I was awake all freakin' this morning, at about 3am, had a full hour before the alarm goes off to get super freaky, arguing with dead presidents freaky, coming up with the perfect rebuttal re: why Mr. Seattle is a hack and will never amount to anything cause I am better than him and he sucks and can we just stop talking about him for 5 frickin' minutes (see) crazy...
And DUDE, I had it ALL planned out. There was gonna be some rebutals today. I was gonna go 1 on 1 with the powers... well, 1 x 2... I had ideas, I had things to SAY. Looky here, dammit... there was going to be pounding on desks and the truth was gonna be told.

Dude, I fell back to sleep, for like 10 minutes... in that ten minutes, you know what, I was rollin down the road in a big ass car, or I was really tiny, but it had a big back seat, and it was warm out and there was a breaze blowing... in the back seat Neko Case and Christina Ricci were making out. I remember there was this contrast between Neko's red hair and Christina had black hair. They were all kissing, kinda casual like, not like porn, it was sweet... and they were waiting for me to find some place to park. Once I found a place to park I was gonna join them. But I was in no hurry, I was confident and patient. I found a place to park and was making this wide turn so I could back the car into this spot next to a sand dune or something... and the alarm went off. I kinda knew this was gonna happen, it was part of the dream, that is why I was in no hurry, because I knew that as soon as I found someplace to park or if they started getting naked the alarm would go off. So I just kinda cruised, slow and low... I hope they enjoyed themselves...

So this couple are having like their 12th or 13th anniversary this weekend and we are going to watch their kids for them so they can knock the boots old school... Just thought I would mention that... J and S are going to sex it up... heh...
Lucky...

boxing with a beaver.

I was the funniest guy in the room
For half an hour or so
At a party filled
With the likes of which
I'll never know
I am thinking of starting another blog, in addition, you dig... something to do with Lyrics. I keep coming across these lyrics and I feel like sharing them, but they kinda just sit there like a turd or something. Maybe like throw some lyrics up there and gush about them. Or say WTF... you get the picture.

I got this hand in my cup
and this buddhas' got me stuck
I'm just trying to compose myself
I don't know why I act this way
I just wanna be left alone
I'm just trying to enjoy myself...

**
Ok, dammit, so I moved upstairs you dig, which seems to be more something something than I anticipated... I keep hearing about how there have been dirty looks from the folks that were already here, how they think we are rowdie (R O W D I E, thats the way we spell rowdie) or something... loud... I ain't seen it though... sounds like low self esteem to me. I have already spoken with a dude from IS and DEV and shit, and it is all good. I am going to call it networking... I may network my ass right on back down to the second floor, we shall see.
If I have any problem with being up here, besides being much much closer to the coffee machine (must pace myself) it is the altitude. For real, dog... I think I am getting the altitude sickness. or my monitor is too close, but no, probably the altitude... feel light headed, kinda funky... uh, if I go downstairs real fast will I get the bends? Or like, the reverse bends, from recompressing too quickly? Shit, is my nose bleeding? Blood thining, cannot maintain erection, must fight sleep... I don't think I'm gonna make it, ya'll go on without me, it will be ok, I will just sit here and rest for a minute, maybe take a nap, I feel warmer already, ahhh, warm and sunny, I can feel the sun and see the light... I am going into the warm warm light... grampa? is that you? Sammy? Petey? are there pets in heaven?

**

So apparently, if I survive this day, we are going to THE CASINO for dinner. I believe it went down kinda like this (what brought us to this juncture or something):
G & M love to gamble and complain about how tight the indian slots are. They gamble the nickel slots.
They want to go gamble and figure they will eat there also, but they may concerned about the traffic or something, so they suggest to T & K that they should come out to dinner at THE CASINO. But they can't just say, hey lets go to dinner to them because it would probably not be THE CASINO that they go to, so they say, we will invite J & C along, they will all meet up for a get together, so they get the dinner excuse and HEY, since they are there they may as well gamble a bit, gets the family together and shit... and this is being explained to P, you see, and since everything has to be shared equally, or at least offered so noone feels left out or short changed, M says something about, Oh, hey, do you want to come, and perhaps due to some guilt at not being able to see the parents year round so you have to maximize the time you do have with them, the answer is yes, or perhaps P just wants a free meal... So the calendar gets filled out with a note, dinner 6:00... So then J or T depending on who you think I am, says, hey, whats up with the thing on the Calendar and is told that we get to go to that one restaurant at THE CASINO, which means he has to go to THE CASINO, but he gets all bitchy about it because he doesn't gamble and doesn't like hearing about maximum bets of 6 nickels being extravegant... or perhaps it is the traffic? Most likely it is the fear that before he gets to eat T & K will shame everyone into saying grace and he will have to fake it... I close my eyes, here I go, I am visualizing the menu... hmmnn, fish and chips... that sounds good, or should I get the something something burger, Ughh, G is ordering the liver and onions... Ughh ughh M is not hungry and is going to share the liver and onions with G and maybe get a piece of dry white toast on the side, their portions are so huge here... Oh... F doesn't like anything on the menu, J is looking at her, stop looking at her J, no you can't have a coke, its too late for that... am I ready, No, but Yes I say, hopefully I will have made a brilliant decision before it is my turn, DOH, nope, the burger basket... damn, should have ordered the fish... Huh, small talk, what have I been up to? Oh, the usual, just working... random talk about the kids and how much it cost to pay for their tuition, great to have T making so much money again, although most of it is going to ....
ahh, on and on it goes, I believe, most likely, that I am just being bitchy and a little perturbed that I was not asked if I was interested in going and now we can't back out because we already said yes and have no viable excuse to opt out... Oh, and have I mentioned the guilt involved? Something to do with how little we actually see the inlaws and not wanting to go makes me a major dick or something, uhh... oh, something about fear of upsetting the lovely wife vs self preservation... OH, yeah, something something about not airing dirty laundry in public... smell my stinky drawers ya'll...

a groovy guy, yeah, get down...

Dude,
I was sitting on the bus yesterday morning, in the dark since the sun is coming up later and later (obviously the end times are upon us, eh) and you know, I was digging on the music coming out of my Zen Micro... Anyhow, Janes Addiction came on, the song Whores, you know, and I was all like, yeah, dammit, if the chance comes you gotta take it... Hell Yeah, those are words to live by... I am gonna do it, I am gonna take some chances...
I was all set to, like, raise a ruckus or something, make a massive change... Then I realized, DUDE, thats Perry Ferrell!!! Now, I love his music, but damn, what kind of moron would I be to take HIS advice... he ain't really a role model to be following. I mean, look how well it worked out for him... he ain't exactly an upstanding citizen...
Should I be concerned about that though? I mean, they could be pearls of wisdom, eh? I don't know, now I am confusing myself... I was gonna go on about how you can't trust the message if you can't trust the messenger, but check it out... What about some of our favorite artists? Most of them had severe mental problems, drug problems, whatever... but their pictures are still beautiful, huh... I have heard stories of absolute pricks cooking some of the most fantastic food in the world in some restaurants... Uhhh... where was I going with this... hmmnnn... something about messages from lunatics? whores? yes, I was going to say something about whores... was I? Dude, remember Mountain Song? YEAH!!! I remember hearing that and wanting to kick some ass... really, get it on... but you wanna know a secret? It was the same when I heard Welcome to the Jungle... oh gosh, now I'm embarassed...

Speaking of the bus, the parade of characters continues... and I have this secret dream... in this dream, I am the freakiest dude on the bus. I am the one that everyone kinda tries not to stare at, the one that makes them put their bags on the seat next to them or puff up so that it appears there is no room for me to sit next to them... Maybe I am the sweaty guy and people get up to move when I sit next to them... I don't know... but you dig, it is the juxtaposition, opposite day or something. Instead of me writing about them, they are writing or telling about me, this one dude on their bus... irony, eh?
Yeah, but I ain't that one... I am so normal as to be absolute Vanilla (nothing wrong with that, Vanilla is tasty too)... We have added a new character or two to the crowd...
1) Ex con constuction worker dude... dude has a prison tattoo on his hand, looks like a sun with tears or something... he looks just like one of those dudes you don't want to put anything valuable down around... seems to be scoping everyone out and I fully expect him to get up and stick someone with a shiv when they get up... he looks totally shifty... really, like one of those dudes they model characters on for movies... I could totally see Ben Stiller sitting down and studying this dude with a makeup artist trying to get the look just right...
2) Used up waitress... remember that scene in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, where they are in the diner and Dr. Gonzo passed her the note and she got all bent and then he pulled the knife? Remember that? Much better in the book, anyhow, that is kinda the impression I get from this chick, like she has been through the ringer a few times, is all worn out but can't stop... maybe trying to escape the past but can't get any further ahead... you know what I mean? She could be fresh out of jail also, maybe took the fall for her pimp or boyfriend when they got caught with a couple pounds of crank.. now he has moved on to some fine young thing and she is left with noone and nothing... am I painting a pretty picture? No? Good, cause it ain't pretty...

Have I mentioned that I hate the morning driver? it's true... he should be on my random hate list... Is hate too strong a word? No, I don't think so... this is NOT the time to be a big puss... I am making a stand... The bus driver in the morning is a big doody head and I won't spit on him but nontheless he sucks and I hate him...
Oh, and I hate someone here, not sure who... it is probably a number of people, a certain few who feel the need to bring large quantities of food into this place, put it in the fridge, and walk away, leave it for a long long time, despite the warnings on the door that the fridge WILL be cleaned every friday and everything thrown out, which NEVER actually happens... at this point, walking into the breakroom is not so different from walking into the bathroom, except for there being less naked men in the breakroom... yeah, it smells... oh, and there are less boogers in the breakroom...

Hey, I used to be a vegetarian... I was very noble in the belief that if my girlfriend did not eat meat then I would not either... yep, raised my freak flag for the cause... remember how we used to eat, baby? all sorts of stuff that apparently had no meat in it... except shrimp... they don't scream when you cut their head off so it was all right... oh, did we eat fish? Things from under the sea... but boy did I miss it... you know, I really cannot buy into the whole global deal where it takes xxx amount of something to raise a cow to be butchered but for slightly less xxx you can field a whole village full of corn or something... pretty much crap unless the earth is like really flat and all things are equal and you can farm pretty much anything anywhere with an abundant supply of water to dump on the ground... and the argument that the animals are treated inhumanly.. DUH!!! I think that there is a lot of inhumane treatment going around, seem to hear about it on the news all the time... things are dying all over the place... and you know what? things should die... everything is gonna... if we don't die we can't come back and do better next time and eventually reach Nirvana... in order for their to be compassion there needs to be sorrow... damn, I'm deep... Oh, and I believe there is something about the human body not being optimized for digesting of processing meat or something... hell, we ain't really optimized for processing most things we put in our bodies... coke, medicines, uhh, other things...
The only real reason I can think of for not eating meat is to get in someones pants... it is like poetry or something... of course, the opposite is true also, like taking someone to the Sizzler, only real reason I can think of for going to the Sizzler is to eat meat wth someone who's pants you want to get into... I guess about the only thing I can think of that is not for the sole purpose of getting into someone pants might be like buying someone a cup of coffee... HOLD IT, no, that is not true... I just remembered, if you buy someone coffee or chocolate covered coffee beans it is because you want to hump them... hmmnn...
Now, dig this, breaking up with someone is kinda the opposite of trying to get in their pants EXCEPT that you break up with someone to get in someone elses pants... WTF?!? does the whole world revolve around sex?

The Tragically Hip
Day for Night
Thugs
everyone's got their breaking point
with me it's spiders and with you it's me
thugs in perpetuity
when we're excited little birds around the feeder
the cat's indifferent or he's just furious
it seems that he's never neither
i do the rolling you do the detail
i do the rolling you do the detail

hairbird plucks a hair from a sleeping dog
to build her nest she said i've looked around
and i like your hair the best
i do the rolling you do the detail
i do the rolling you do the detail

Ruby, honey are you mad at your man?

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like a birthday or a pretty view

I hate to say it, but I am leaning toward "A View to a Kill" as my favorite Duran Duran song... or Union of the Snake... definately NOT The Reflex... damn thing is stuck in my head...

Due to lack of an update from Chuck as to his love life, I am going to make some assumptions, with all the love in the world...
1) new place did not pan out for one reason or another so no place to go.
2) asked the girlfriend if she farted and she said she did and thought it was pretty funny, and it was not in bed so he couldn't pull the covers over her head to gas her out...
3) he really actually does love her and wants to be with her for the rest of his natural life, and beyond... theirs is the one true love like in Princess Bride, he being Wesley and she being the chick... I will play Enigo Montoyoa...
4) Things came up, there was a film playing, company came from out of town, the opportunity never arose, there was a flood, the car broke down, he had to borrow money, she's pregnant and he has to wait for the blood results to come back, and stuff...
5) My favorite reason for not being able to break up with someone: they will not let you... He pulled the trigger, she caught the bullet in her teeth, thus they are still together, whats that legal term, something about no body no crime... he couldn't kill her so they have to stay together... pretty simple really...
It's cool dude, no puss points for not breaking up... and, yes, you can be AMAZED by my powers of divination...

OK, insert huge rant here about: Government, NY, aftermath of the twin towers going down, etc...
Basic premise being that the general government is bad, namely on the Federal level, President and all his people, evil... can't be trusted... shenanigans and not in a good way... expect a bunch of people to get charged with crimes after the midterm elections so that Bush will have time to pardon them all before he is out of office... for real... Oh, and breathing in the smoke from burning rubble, not good, despite what anyone would tell you, just because it is fluffy white smoke does not mean it will not harm you...

Funny, I was trying to explain to my lovely wife how I appreciate her, and somehow it popped into my head that a grand expression of my love would be to kill something... yeah, kill... I don't know... it just kinda was there, it was like, I wish I could kill something to prove how much you mean to me... Dude, how primal is that? Or serial killery? I prefer primal, like I am a lion or something, and I am stalking some prey, like a gazelle, and after I kill it but biting into its neck and suffocating it I will drag it back to the den and share it with her and the cubs... and she can lick the blood off my mane... and we can do it like on the Discovery Channel (yeah, yeah, blood hound gang)...
Now, that is not how the thought fully developed in my brain... no, it was just, hey, maybe I should kill something for her. I didn't have a person in mind or a thing or anything... but now that I think of it, maybe it could be all grand and we could have an alter and black candles and red velvet and we could spill some blood and smear it all over ourselves...
Oh, yeah, but that was just made up just now... I guess I am trippin' cause I don't usually kill things or think about killing things, and am confused cause I wouldn't know how to really go about killing something and then showing the lovely wife how I had done it and how it was all for her in a way that would really show her how deeply I care... you know what I mean? Like, how would you present something like that? Not only the carcass, but the message... with a card taped to it? I don't know...

Dude, Grapefruit Airborne... Tasty (note the capital T)... I am gonna bulk up (beefcake) on the airborne until it is gone. 3 times a day, I figure, and I should be good... although I could use some sick time... Cough, cough, eh, I have gone blind... can't see coming to work today...
I don't feel like being sick, although I don't feel like being here, but I have nowhere else to go... Dude, you wanna know a secret? Once we get the Cordoba all suped up, I may take it to "work" one day, but not actually "go to work"... I may go to centralia and hit the outlet stores... ssshhhh... or hit the Alberto outlet store and sit in the car eating processed meat sticks and drinking a big gulp down by the river...

OK, so the new Nintendo Wii...
Reason #1 for getting it... BANG
Reason #2 : You can play gamecube games on it... Yeah!!!

your friend.

Dude, I'm goin' monk... stream of conscious... ahhmmmmm....

Got my new red shoes on, now my pinky toes are all squished, but at least I don't look like some pony tail boy birkenstock wearing homo, not that there is anything wrong with that...

I ate some chips today, now I keep checking to make sure there are not crumbs on my face, oh, I just thought, what if there is like black chip seasoning in my teeth and people will see it when I talk to them... damn...
Minnie the moocher, dude, is totally about doing drugs... did you know that? They made a Betty Boop cartoon out of the song and hardly anyone knew what it was about, ain't that a trip? Cab Calloway is so cool... Go to Archive.org and download the cartoon and/or the song...

Go to Archive.org and download this dude named John Butler, specifically the John Butler Trio. Dude is from Australia, but he rocks out with his weiner out... for real. Jam Band kinda stuff, sounds like some Zeppelin and shit... I don't think the old lady enjoys it, some of our musical tastes are the same, but then there are some places where we diverge... Like that one gal, with the hair, plays piano... uhh, not Fiona Apple, her new CD rocks... the other one... hmmnn... no matter... we don't have to like the same music all the time... as long as we continue to sing the same song, or something like that... together...

It was kinda cold this morning, made me think of Hot and Sour Soup. I think it may be about time to make some. Nothing like a big ass pot of hot and sour soup and eating it until you explode, then eating some more a little while later... sounds like a plan, and a good excuse to go to the H-Mart...

Ok, so I was listening to The Blow, Pile of Gold (Listen to it) and I am very happy. I enjoy The Blow and I was listening to this song and was still thinking about Minnie the Moocher and was listening to the song and I was thinking that it is a damn sexy song... although I may be interpreting the words incorrectly, but apparently all the girls are sitting on a pile of gold, and all the boys you know they want it, want it, want it... and all the boys will love you if you share your goods... or something like that, very similar to that... so apparently this pile of gold it a euphemism for puddin', yo, which, of course is a euphemism for beaver, uh, which is again, a euphemism (am I spelling that correctly?) for the golden palace of the himalaya's, and so on... girls are lucky, their parts have so many interesting names... flowery and poetic names... boys names are all, dull and utilitarian... really now, johnson? oh, except for Hammer of the Gods, that one rocks...
Oh, and apparently some girls are bigger than others, this night has openned my eyes, whats my age again?

Hey, freestylin' is fun...

Did I mention that I got my new RED shoes on? Yeah, apparently... oh, and did I happen to mention that I am wearing Levi's 505 jeans instead of 550's... classic fit instead of fat fit... I mean, loose... Who wants to hear about my underwear? heh... not much to talk about there...

Oh, some little kids were playing with my kids and they were all haver some sort of lord of the flies moment (PIGGIE!!!) and these other little kids called my kids and their friend something like "stupid crackers" and although my kids have no idea what that means they knew enough not to be happy about it... and I was all like, Uh, Cracker??? how bad is that? should I be offended? uhhh... oh, the dynamics... it was kinda weird, cause one of the girls that said it was a white girl, pearly white... her cousin was black or half black, both were cute, but you know the cute ones can be evil too... and one of the girls they were calling cracker was mostly mexican and then my two girls, Vikings, so who knows... but we are all poor, so why can't we all just get along??? oh, but then the girls came in all indignant and stuff and we told them not to play with the other girls anymore if they are not going to be nice, so then these other girls all came over and were kinda hovering around outside the porch and shit and the littlest viking went to the door and she yelled out to them, now dig this... "We are SO not your friends anymore!!!" then she slammed the door on them... YEAH!!!

Oh, yeah, here is a picture of The Blow... now why didn't I think of that???

ladies and gentlemen, let it be known, Trey Wafer is... Dirty...

Yehaaahh...
So the booty just keeps on coming.
Yesterday the red shoes show up. I will begin wearing them next week and retire the burkies to the dark recesses of summer... It may be time to burn them and start over.
Today, according to my tracking information, my 5.1 surround speakers should be delivered, and perhaps the new video card I ordered (where the hell is my hard drive???). My life will finally be complete and I can die.
Did I win the lottery? NO, just cashed out this piece of crap account I had at Morgan Stanley... they are on my evil list... I will have to detail the list out again... anyhow, yeah, cashed it out with the hope that we would use the money to pay off a bunch of bills and such, buy a car, etc...
So far we have bought a car (see the post about the Cordoba you short attention span bastards) and I believe we paid off one of the credit cards... and bought a bunch of shit... heh...
**Side Note:
Goddamn organic Honest Tea bastards. Now, when you buy from the big boys they always leave some room at the top so when you open the bottle it doesn't overflow, or you don't have to bend over it like some hooker to suck the top of the bottle off... Honest Tea, they fill theirs to the very literal top of the bottle, unbeknownst to ME... so I unscrew it and move in for the kill and BAM!!! dribbles down the side, right onto my package (everything ends up on my package, something about a big target or something) and now it looks like I have pee issues. Great... only 8 more hours to go)
**End Tirade**
So I have a feeling that the money will slowly disappear into whatever spot money seems to go to... uh, food and living or something... which seems appropriate, so I guess I am not really bitching, but giving a big hooray or something... don't mind me today...
**
So apparently I am not the only soul out there that is not really a burning man fan. I really wasn't looking for anyone to back me up, but quite the opposite, I was looking for someone or something to fill me in... did a simple search for Burning Man and came across some sites with negative feedback. I could probably go on and on about how I can see their point and eventually end up in some stupid ass debate about how I am an asshole and have no idea what I am talking about, which is apparently what happens when you disagree with burning man, but I hope not to.
I will say, though, that apparently, my impression is, that it is a lot like The Evergreen State College. People wanting to be "outside" the establishment and doing art for the sake of art, until you either ignore them or disagree with them or dislike them for some reason. Then they fight hard to be accepted for who they are, and not oppressed or something, which usually results in some sort of statement involving menstrual blood and crying trees.
Generally speaking, the people that appear to be going to BM are people who can afford it, so not really the fringe folks, but corporate types that have discretionary income that allows them to take a week off and rent a RV and/or afford thousands of dollars in art/welding supplies so they can go out in the desert with a bunch of other people who have done the same thing and then go back to their normal lives and talk about how they did it and can't wait to do it again.
Ahh, yeah, well, anyhow... I was able to find words that backed up my opinions of the whole issue, which is "right" for me, others may disagree and you know, that's fine... we don't have to agree or even respect each others opinions, or like each other... as a matter of fact, screw you... in advance...
***
I Hate List:
Starbucks - Bad Coffee
Morgan Stanley - Bad Money Management
Hippies - Dirty Bastards
Spelling Nazis - Dirty Bastards
Nazi Nazis - Dirty Bastards
Current government (federal) - Nazis
Current Government (Seattle) - Bad mayor
Morning Bus Driver - late, late, late
Chick from Starbucks on the afternoon bus - talk talk talk
Did I mention hippies?
Tom Cruise - TCLTC
Most of the Kent Station - Restaurants - Bad, Breakdancing young people - Good, Preaching Christians - Bad, Hot topic and Jamba Juice - Good,
***
Oh, yeah, dude, I was going to mention, Kent Station, right... Well, we were down there, me and the lovely family, the other day, ate at the noodle place, and then just kind hangin out...
Well I heard this noise out one ear and it was these jesus types with a microphone and a bunch of presents and a small ladder and they were talking about jesus and god and stuff... I was all like, WTF? and they had a small gathering around them, apparently people that they had brought with them to agree with them or something, so apparently you could get up and talk about stuff if you wanted and when you were done you got to pick out a present... I was perturbed...
BUT, then, out of my other ear, I was hearing this techno music, and there, over by the theaters (by the fountain thingy) were these dudes BREAK DANCING. Holy shit, it was so cool. These dudes were doin' shit I couldn't believe, well, I could believe, but I was amazed by, yes, amazed...
Dudes would stand on their hands then like spin around in circles on one hand... they would be all leaping and jumping and shit... damn... Even saw some poppin and lockin, not real good, but I didn't want to go up and school them on that... But they were competing against each other and stuff, all friendly like... it was like in Zoolander when they were doing the walk off... really... DUDE, I went and got a Jamba Juice and came back and stood there watching them for a long long time... it rocked...
Next time I am going to hit the dilettante and get me some coffee/chocolate love and just kick back with the kids...
**
So these preacher dudes, they were all like talking about how the Bible says this and the Bible says that and obviously if it says it it is true... some young dude was going on about how ya'll think you have the key to get into heaven but what if it is not the right key and he told some story I have heard before about these dudes playing poker in a burning building and they ended up dying because they didn't have the right key... I totally had a point I was going to make about that... but it really ended up with me screaming screw you and crying...
Then, this other dude got up and started talking about marriage and how it can only really be between a man and a woman, and it always amazes me that people actually believe this and base it:
A) emotionally - because the bible says so, otherwise it is evil, and what about the chirrens
b) intellectually - what about the chirren, gay marriage would never work because of the lifestyle, what if someone wants to marry their horse, it will cause insurance rates to go up
And they go on and on and I typically have no rebuttal because it is so ignorant that I can't find the simple words to, uh, rebut...
It really is discrimination... there is no argument that can rise above the fact that it is fueled by fear and hatred...
Really, I was in total amazement, on one side these dudes were experiencing freedom and happiness and everyone was digging it, on the other side these dudes were preaching about taking away freedom and happiness and how people are evil if they don't agree... actually, I kinda like that part... they make me feel dirty...
***
Oh, yeah, Ted Leo and the Pharmacists, mp3 freeness...
They are my current new favorite and will be appearing at the Austin City Limits Music Festival... Now THAT I can get behind... OMG

MC 900FT Jesus - Adventures in Failure

Damn I hate this job
to work in this dump you gotta be a snob
everybody gets on my nerves in this place
I think I'll take the afternoon off from the rat race
an exciting career
don't amount to much but a pain in the rear
I bust my ass all day for a dollar
and then I go home and listen to the kids holler
devoted spouse waitin' in the den
wants to hit me upside the head with a rolling pin
does that ring a bell?
a daily routine we all know well
I'm makin' more but enjoyin' it less
the good life's mainly causin' me stress
making a change is difficult but
I gotta try to get out of this rut
but fear seems to be holdin' me back
courage is the principle trait I lack
I gotta calm my nerves so I can think
I pour myself a nice stiff drink
and another this is my usual mode
one for the money and ten for the road
ah, now everything is clear
I gotta get the hell out of here
Yes now my mission is plain
a Big Mac is calling my name
I gotta sample some of Ronald's cooking
so I raid my wifes purse when she's not looking
pondering the wonderful thing called marriage
I accidentally back the car into a baby carriage
'scuse me ma'am I'd love to stay and chat
but watch where you're going next time you old bat
I hit the gas and zoom down the block
leave 'er in the dust yellin' for the cops
swervin' round a corner tryin' to steer
I get so excited I almost spill my beer
a neighbourhood dog is yappin' at my bumper
so I slam on the brakes and I hear a big thump
I jump the curb and land up on a lawn
then I finish my beer and turn the radio on
some idiot's goin' on about rehab
I grab a brew and yank on the pull tab
here comes a little old lady with a shot gun
I put the pedal to the metal and she runs
digging on my off-road driving power
I do a donut in a bed of flowers
then I jerk the wheel a little to hard
the car rolls over and over on out of the yard

I come to rest in the middle of the street
a bunch of empty beer cans rattlin' at my feet
starin' in the window is a nosy little brat
I look him in the eyes and say "I meant to do that"
then I notice my watch says I'm overdue
for my big appointment at the local drive through
I do a number on the accelerator
and I'm cuttin' in line about thirty seconds later
whaddya think this is?
some kinda joke?
gimme 10 Big Macs and a small diet coke
I pull up to the window with my radio playin'
I grab the bag and leave without payin'
I weave down the road for a block
jugglin' a beer and a a styrofoam box
pull into a parking lot and kill the motor
presently I notice a peculiar odour
a little black smoke is risin' from the hood
somethings gonna happen and it's probably not good
I open the door grab my stuff and go
just in time to watch the whole thing blow
the car explodes with a bang and a hiss
Oh boy, my wife is gonna really like this
I can't believe this is happenin' to me
this piece of junk's goin' back to the factory
this was a blatant attempt on my life
everyone will fall for that
except my wife
but wait a plan begins to emerge
I suddenly have an overwhelming urge
to spend the night in the great outdoors
my suburban lifestyle has become a bore
I'll build me a fire
and finish my burgers
what my wife don't know
won't hurt her
I leave the scene of the unhappy event
resolved to make the most of my predicament
a few yards away I feel better
I know! I'll write 'er a letter
or better yet a ransom demand
got your husband send the money understand?
or else we'll send his head home in a jar
P.S.
sorry 'bout the car
Yeah, now that ought to really do the trick
I'll be gettin' off the hook and she'll be worried sick
but really, I'm gonna make it up to you honey
I'll buy you a new car with your own damned money
I walk a while into the sunset
a man, at peace with the world, you bet
nothing can diminish my total enjoyment
except when I pass my place of employment
Damn I hate this job
to work in this dump you gotta be a snob
everybody gets on my nerves in this place
I think I'll take the afternoon off
from the rat race

not to be confused with

Dude,
I am totally starting and stopping and second guessing myself...
I remember last year at this time, there seemed to be a general slow down of bloggin activity... could it be some sort of seasonal affect? The changing of the season is changing my perception and attitude and shit? Holy Shit!!! Did I just discover something? Like Christopher Columbus discovering America even though there were already thousands or aboriginals already here/there? Am I the kind of stating the obvious? Shoot...
I don't know, I feel a definate resistance inside me, like that brain cloud is an iron curtain, inhibiting any creative thought... great googly mooglies... there is really only a couple cures I know of for a malaise such as this... some good lovin' and/or something else... I can't remember... but good lovin' is a general cure all for, uh, everything...
So, at this point I am waiting to see:
1) What technique will Chuck Fishback use to finally pull the plug on his relationship with the generally disagreeable current?
2) Who is this mystery co-worker that Red Bear went to a going away party for?
3) How much is it going to cost to fix up the Cordoba?
4) Uh, other things and stuff...
Really, my creative juices are kinda, dry...

**
Ok, so this chick, right, she was telling me about this fear of hers, it involves the end times as prophesised in that book, whats it called? The Bible...
I think...
Well, apparently, there is something about the end of times, and like some of the signs are a single currency and one religion and high gas prices or something (dude, RFID is the devil)...
So, her fear is that the evil muslims will win or something and we will all be stood up against the wall and they will ask us something about jesus and if you say something about jesus being the man and mohammed being not the man then they will kill you... I am not sure what happens then...
and thats cool... some people are scared to poop in public restrooms, some people are scared of muslims, its all good, I can't fault her for that (now, her stand on bush, don't get me started)...
So anyway, I was all like, what if the one religion that wins in Buddhism? Like all the Buddhist monks would line ya'll up and say, HEY!!! What's up with Jesus? and ya'll would say, HEY!!! Jesus is the man!!! and the monks would be all like, OK, then, you just go with that... although there IS a better way, oh, and could you spare some food?
Now, what ya'll should be doing is like, when they line you up, and they say HEY!!! What's up with Jesus? you should answer something like, I don't know, just bark... Do something really Zen... then go about your business... wouldn't that be something... the end times from the bible is just like a bunch of people becoming enlightened... christianity becomes redundant, the churches fall... hell yeah, I can't wait for the end of times...
I think I remember something about some people getting pulled up into heaven or something, whats that called? The gloaming or something? Uh, no, apparently not.. Rapture? is that it... Wouldn't that be sweet? Like a bunch of christians getting pulled like old milk and then all that is left is like, cool people, enlightened and peaceful brothers and sisters all getting along again... with HH running the show, unless that kid in India really is the buddha... Wha-wha-what???
For real, dude... check it out...

***
Dude,
Another burning man, come and gone... I think about it, sometimes, but there is something so Evergreen about it I just get the twitches... to be honest, I don't see the spirituality in a drum circle, I don't get the fire spinning thing beyond trippin' and looking at the pretty colors, and I am not sure I really understand the concept of building up a big "man" and burning him at the end...
I can dig the art cars, or a random installation, and although I haven't the vision to invent one I could probably be pretty handy with my hands in building one... Organizing a tent village, I could do that... a theme? hell, I am full of themes... Pork comes to mind... oh, and the getting loaded... I can support that... but the concept I have the most trouble with is... get this... TIME... I haven't the time to consider this... it gives me a headache just thinking about it... and then imagining being there for a week and having to be ON for that long, enjoying everyone and everything... Yes, that is a very fancy thing you made... WOW, look at that fire spinning. No, I am not looking at your boobs... stuff like that, over and over and over... I would be like, done with it after 1 or 2 days, tops...
I am in no way trying to say that the people that enjoy it are mental or something... I know that people have a different sense of things than I do. I know that there is something about community and or nature that I am just not digging, and you know what, I salute those people... BRAVO to you... I just ain't a festival guy... or a people person... or really into moving...

***
So, yesterday was "first day of school" for apparently everyones child. It has been mentioned that it should be a national day off, like a holiday, or something... I know of several people that took the day off or partially off... Some for the very first day of school ever, others even though this is like the 4th first day of school ever... me, I went to the place where I spend all my time...
SO... This one little girl, what did she learn on her first day? She learned to "LIE" to her parents...
Apparently she made up this story about there being this 14 year old dude in her kindergarten class with a mustache and smoking pot and drinking beer, who was throwing airplanes and disrupting things, so the teacher was all like, HEY, Get your ass out of here, and the dude was all like, Lick It, teach... and the teacher grabbed him by the nutsack and hauled him out into the hallway and made him sit there crying...
Now this didn't really happen, and this little girls parents were all like, WTF?!? at first, and were going to call the police and stuff, but at the last minute they were able to figure out that the little girl made the whole thing up out of spite and such, so she was punished HARD CORE...
Now, in an alternate universe, say, mine or, what I like to call "reality" I would say that this little girl used what we call "imagination", and at my house, that and a burp or a good fart joke will get you an extra slice of pie...
Now, I have heard of other people taking the day off... some were on pins and needles because they sent their child to public school after years of Montessori... Another story I heard was of this gal taking the day off to take their child in to their very first day of school and their GODDAMN MOTHER IN LAW decided SHE wanted to go too... like she has some sort of vested interest in this child.. back off, bitch... and then this other gal, she took her kid to her first day of school, then went home and sat on the couch...
I am going to take the first day of school off next year for the little vikings first day... then go home and make the sweet sweet love all day long with the lovely wife... if she is up for it... Broad Daylight, people... yeah...

all twitchy...

BURRRRAAHHHHHHHH
Dammitt...
I was trying to remember that song, how does it go, about how I hate people... no... It was stand on your own head, They Might Be Giants...

You made my day, now you have to sleep in it
Now you have to sleep in it
I love the world and if I have to sue for custody,
I will sue for custody

It is not YOU fine people, No!!! it is THEM... I mean, fuck!!! (sorry ma)...
**
So I been reading up about Cordoba repair, specifically how to fix the power window on the drivers side, and apparently it is not rocket science. undo 3 bolts and drop out the motor and SHABAZZ!!! There will apparently be some screwing and gears and lubricant... unless I was on the wrong site... the pictures seemed to be about motors and stuff, but they were all twisted and stuff. So, yeah, I can fix it...
I am scared of the engine, overall... There are like, hoses and wires and things all over the place. There is this shiny silver box looking thing on the back firewall, and there is this tube with a nipple coming off the front, like you could hook something up to it, and generally speaking, it is dirty. But I think this frickin car can be made to be shiny and fancy and shit... Aarrghh
**
OK, so I know it is not just me. I know that there are others that are on the edge of something or other. I don't know if it is the impending long dark winter, or if it is something else, but people are apparently insane. And cruisin' for a broozin'... I need to be held, people. For real. But I think I have that twitchy leg disease or something. So whomever is trying to hold me may just get a kick in the crotch.
Oh, and they should not be a boy. And they should be a girl, and live in my house, and stuff...
I don't know... I am trippin', don't pay me much attention...
I am trying to be understanding, a listener more than a talker... not here, out there...
But then this chick at work, she was all like fearful of the lord or something, and praising Bush so I assume she is just messing with me, but she probably isn't and I have no response... I disagree but not so strongly that I want to stomp her or something... She said something earlier that I am not supposed to discuss, and you know damn well that I would love to bring it up right about now, but you know I just cannot remember what it was that she said... it was a hoot, you would have gone, WTF?!? and I would have said, yeah, huh... She did say that she went into the girls bathroom and it stunk to high heaven the other day, but I figure she either walked into the mens or some blind dude went into the womens by mistake, or she is lying... or she hates the smell of flowers since that is what the wind that women make smells like...

Cordoba

This is the Cordoba. Pretty sweet, eh?
More pictures here

Quick, like a brown fox or something...

Dude, if everything works out, tomorrow me and the fabulous wife will be the proud owners of a 1978 Chrysler Cordoba. For real... 400ci engine, power everything, 8 track player, etc... this is not a picture of the actual car, but it looks like this... It does not have the rich Corinthian leather, but it does have plush cloth similar to what you might find on grandma's couch... yeah...
**
Oh, yeah, I did the pork thing on Saturday. Started with 5 pounds of pork and ended up with 8 pounds... that is the magic of pork. It is super tasty and at this point you should be able to think up all sort of remarks that include the following words: Trey, Tasty, Pork, in my mouth, yum...
**
In other news, apparently today has been chosen as "drive daddy insane day"...
Or, to be fair, perhaps it is "daddy is insane and the world is not cooperating day"
One way or another there are frowns and scowls and shrieks and shouting and cleaning supplies and stuff... I think it all came from this:
I was all busy sleeping in my own big boy bed and at about 4am I was woken up by someone whining (in a tiny little voice) that they did not have enough room, and to stop touching me and stuff... I know, I know, but really, this did happen AGAIN... so AGAIN I found myself with about 2 1/2 inches of bed real estate and was being pushed even farther, so I got up and went and slept on the couch... Now, the couch in not comfortable, it is too short, and not wide enough... but I laid there for a few hours until the chirren figured out I was not in the big bed any longer and if they wanted to drive me insane (more insane) they would need to get up and come out to the living room to do it...
Then the beautiful wife comes out and immediately starts cleaning. Now the house was a mess, but if someone gets up and the first thing they do is start cleaning there is something wrong... I assume, of course, that the something wrong is me... I know, I know, that's ridiculous, but really, I have no other something something...
So things are quiet again, perhaps the lull before the storm... hmmnnn...

like wood, very knotty...

Dude,
OK, so I am just going to just bust this out...
I am hella wired, took a hit off of this can of whipped cream I found, YEE-ARRGHGH...
Have drank a wired B12, a cup of coffee, a grande iced americano and eaten a couple handfuls of chocolate covered coffee beans... Watch the fuck out!!!
This hot gal that lives in my apartment went and bought me a pork shoulder roast for me to do my mexican pork thing with (like the lambada, but with pork) and some tostitos gold and some chili cheese dip... so my plans are set... will make pork, and after it is done we will mix it with some chili cheese dip and eat it with chips... yeahARRRGGGG....
I didn't notice anyone on the bus today... booyaaa...
I killed a man in Reno just to watch him die, just thought I would mention... wheooo
The car we need to buy, it is a Dodge Dart or Plymouth Valiant, from the mid 70's with a slant 6... I have this on good authority...
The devil child next door, her aunt and cousins are staying with her now... apparently stupid runs in the family... one little dude is Spider Man, he randomly appears in his Spiderman costume and says things about being a superhero, but he sucks... all he is is, uh, mental or something... and his little brother, HOLY SHIT... I was standing there, and he came running at me and he really only comes up to my knees but for some reason, as he was running at me, I imagined that he was sharp and if he got to me he would brush up against me and it would be like a razor cutting through my nutsack... so I kinda jumped... and he stopped like 2 feet away, and DUDE, the little bastard just stood there and looked up at me and the look on his face was like HE KNEW and he was letting me know he knew and next time I wouldn't be so lucky... Next time I am going to trip him and when I help him up I am going to whisper in his ear to "stay the fuck away from me you little turd or I will ..." Not sure what I will do, gotta work on that... but that will probably bond us together or something... I am all confused, this family business, them, is it nature or nuture? it could be that evil runs in their blood, you dig, but it could be that they are being raised that way, like pitbulls or something... or killer whales, docile creatures after years of breeding, but still beasts of the deep inside, but the other way around...
Found this deal on Flickr where you can attach your photos to a map so they show locations, like what I did, you see, is took all the McHenry pictures I took and attached them to McHenry on the map, etc, etc... I find this pretty cool, kinda peeky and stuff, like I am peeking in at someone, peek... gives me this sense of connection to see someone elses pictures and say, hey, I saw that too, and Hey, my pictures don't suck so hard after all... stuff like that... you should check it out...
Dude, I am not going to use any of those suggestions to leave my old lady... I would never do that, but if I did I would use a different one, something about faking my death... but then I would have to kill someone else, my size and shape (insert joke about package here now) and leave them charred on the side of the road so people think it was me... it would be a cross between Fletch and Sleeping with the Enemy... then I would go get a job in a fish and chips shack or marijuana farm and grow my hair out and call myself Corky, but I would spell it Quorquey and tell everyone I am french canadian and I hate myself because french canadians suck...
OK, so I will take the Pork, you see, and cut it into pieces, about this big and I will heat up the big silver pot/pan thing with some bacon grease that I hid in the fridge... I will seer (sear?) the meat on all sides unless I get lazy and only do a couple sides, then I will throw a onion in that I chopped up just a little bit, so the chunks are big, and throw a few (6 or so) cloves of garlic in, and some dried chili's, and let it sizzle (like the stove said to the meat, if I am going to cook you the least you can do it sit there and be sweet) and then, and then, after it has gotten some color, I will pour a coca cola in it, and some water, and some boullion and a bay leaf and some oregano and other things that I will randomly grab from the spice place and smell and then, if it smells right, I will add some of it... and then I will turn the heat down and put the lid on it and leave it for an hour, won't even look at it, will try not to smell it even... then I will.. and I will add water and or other things if I think it is needed, and after a while, and after a while, I will poke the meat and see what it does, maybe add some more liquid, and walk away for a while... maybe take 3 hours, maybe 4... when I grab the meat and it falls apart, then it will be done... I will take it out of any liquid that is left, and try to pull out any chunks of stuff that I can... need to reduce the liquid and shred the pork and mash up the soft stuff, and then throw the meat back into the liquid and the soft stuff too and then let it cook off for a while, not too much, and it will be moist and meaty and tasty and shit... and thats it... yum...
and I am done... thats all I got... for real... its been pleasant... parties are fun, I guess... heh, Sorry, but I gotta do it:
Like a dirty little sob, I found a balloon buried in the yard.
It was the saddest thing I ever found, sadder than if it had once been alive, a pet or a grandmother.
Left over from a party, I guess.
And I don't like parties.
But they're fun I guess.
And when they're over it's worse than when they begin, and when they're forgotten it's horrible, more absolute than a corpse.
And I found its shriveled skull, pocketed it, put it in the green tank with the Stingray and the Tonka Toys.
Everything dies in there.
Put the President in there face down, the Secret Service, they'd all die and the news would end.
A great place to end a party.
I found a shoe in the yard, thrown over the fence from a car bang on dope or wine - just a one shoe fling.
I figured it all out.
Two men and a woman in the back seat, driver sideways on the front seat, watching, they left the car back there in the weeds and dried up mud and trash, and just one shoe.
There were cans of food and filthy blankets, shit I couldn't figure out.
All of them living in there? Then one last bang, a party, zip.
I threw bricks at it, I hated it so much I wanted to grow up and go with them in a straw hat and sunglasses, down to the welfare.
The shoe went in the tank.
The wrecking yard took the car.
You see what I mean about parties? The last living thing loses its memory and drowns and unlike a real body sinks to the bottom, falls apart into twinkling sludge.
Yeah, life originally came from miles of dead parties, decomposed cardboard sequins, rusty noisemakers and mush and sadness.
I demonstrate this in a green tank the length of a whole childhood, poisoned fish, I throw everything in there, this balloon.
Worlds will come out, bigger than this world.
Explode through the drapery and glass, growling in the naked street, shaped like a foot, like a sharp knife, like an ugly doll full of cotton.
Whole worlds like those things covered with life we don't see.
As a partly grown man I don't understand my own thinking.
It just goes through my head like a sawblade, a gun at a party.
Everyone scatters, dropping everything all the time.
There is a little thing left here and there and I find it and I feed it to the fish.
When I die, when I am fully grown, dump it all in the Los Angeles river with the cars and the skulls.
This little thing, I am making more out of it than there is.
It is just wrinkled and blue and dirty.
But I like to think when something disturbs me that it is important.
Goodnight.
Goodnight.
Yes, thank you for coming.
Goodnight.
Goodnight.
It was very pleasant.
Goodnight.
Goodnight.
I'll see you again.
Goodnight.
Goodnight.
Standing at the open door issuing people.
It's over.
It just is.
I don't even remember what party it was, standing in the yard, kicking with my foot.