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
**
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
Labels: links, ramble, taco trucks
posted by Catfish at 10:54 AM
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