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 bigand 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.
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 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.
posted by Catfish at 2:09 PM
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