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Think of me as Chomsky with dick jokes.
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| halloween |
[07 Oct 2006|09:33am] |
Last weekend was my mother's divorce party. It went well enough, Nicholas and I made banners which read "Free at Last" and "FINALLY!". I don't think anyone but the three of us appreciated the slogans, but that doesn't really matter.
Tonight we're going to a haunted house (not a real house that is haunted, just to clarify because Jeff seems perpetually confused by this). Not that this is relevant to anything, but I'm looking forward to it. Oh yes, and in summary of other things: last night I saw The Departed and as of today I am reading The Third Policeman (I Can't believe how terribly influential the novel is!).
Also, if you live in Michigan expect a birthday letter and perhaps a mixtape soon.
Peace.
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[23 Jun 2006|02:10pm] |
Coincidence?
ugh.
somehow I doubt this was meant to pay homage to Bergman
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| When I go to bed, I get hungry! When I sit down to eat, I get sexy! I saw a man, lying in the middle |
[12 Mar 2006|10:13pm] |
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“Dinosaur fossils? God put those there to test our faith." Thank God I'm strapped in right now here man. I think God put you here to test my faith, Dude. You believe that? "Uh huh." Does that trouble anyone here? The idea that God.. might be...fuckin' with our heads? I have trouble sleeping with that knowledge. Some prankster God running around: "Hu hu ho. We will see who believes in me now, ha HA.”
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| I will die for these animals, I will die for these animals, I will die for these animals. |
[13 Feb 2006|09:18pm] |
Except for Barthelme and Hawkes, everything I've read of late has been about indians (redskins).
I can't stand another line about cyclical nature or getting drunk and cursing whitey:
"sunrise, accept this offering, sunrise" was the last line of Ceremony.
Folklit seemed promising, at least. And I still can't believe I got a grand for Mule.
en-e-e-ya-a-a-a-! (X4)
Ni neibian jidian
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[06 Jan 2006|07:47pm] |
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| dear god. |
[31 Dec 2005|08:52am] |
Thank you for sending me an uncle that is sufficiently retarded.
I really love that you've seen fit, oh lord, to make a man too stupid to shit with his pants off (why use a toilet when someone can simply change your garments for you?), too gaseous to bear-- and delightfully, unbelievably loud. Nothing reaffirms my love for you more than waking up to a 45 year old man shrieking "hey doggie" at 6:30 in the morning. Glory be, I question not your design or intention.
On another note, festivus went well. Thanks for the pictures, Brian.
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[12 Dec 2005|04:26pm] |
Why is it that only fat people have EBT cards?
Top three items poor fatties buy:
CAKES
DORITOS
FROZEN BURRITOS
I believe this illustrates the sensibility that got these fatasses into the poor bracket in the first place.
Also, I am poor and I don't smell. Why do they?
Maybe they sleep in all of their food. Maybe they bathe in their burritos.
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| DECEMBER THE 28TH... |
[03 Dec 2005|03:38pm] |
Celebration of FESTIVUS!
Featuring:
AND
WITH
an aluminum, no tinselated, pole.
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| FISH |
[16 Nov 2005|08:51pm] |
| [ |
music |
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KENNETH PATCHEN + HIS BAND |
] |
Who says you can't have meaningful conversations online?
FIRST:
kill your grocer: loving++
kill your grocer: -++ + where are my astricz?
kill your grocer: ** FOUND THEM
AND:
kill your grocer: i'm sure there's a class that is strictly
syllogism you could take
all stone is: WHAT
kill your grocer: don't yell at me
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[06 Nov 2005|07:48am] |
I had a really scary dream about zombies last night.
It frightened me so much that I woke up at six (AM) feeling paranoid (and stupid). Everyone was there, some people were the living dead and some were incredible zombie-killers.
The first incidence of me vs zombie was embarrassing. There was a group of people with me (in this house that looked suspiciously like my grandmother's) and they all had impressive anti-zombie weaponry.
When it came time to fight:
A man with double chainsaws
a firing gun (I couldn't tell where it was coming from)
One harpoon shooting downstairs
and many assorted knives
I was armed with a garlic press (a tiny little box atop a hand-long metal handle).
The fight wasn't very long but it was scary. I was hiding at the top of the attic stairs, feeling pretty safe and cowardly, when one zombie started heading my way.
Physically the she-zombie wasn't intimidating, but her super-Tourette's manner of weaving back and forth was.
The climax came as the zombie attempted to bite at my left arm.
What Happened Exactly In that Moment:
The tiny metal box was readied; my chicken arm swung determinedly down-
the press struck the top of the zombies head, and nothing happened (except the continued attempted biting)
Someone else shot the zombie before it ate me up. And that's how the rest of the dream goes, except occasionally I get a better weapon.
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| cover |
[02 Nov 2005|06:53pm] |
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Just the Right Bullets
(Les Bonnes Cartouches)
performed by Oscar Matzerath
36. "Better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick."
37. "Better than a slap in the belly with a wet fish."
38. "Better than a thump on the back with a stone."
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[10 Sep 2005|10:46pm] |
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they shoot horses don't they? +nick + paint
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[29 Jun 2005|12:17pm] |
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I HEART MY LHASA APSO
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| ------------OH! |
[22 May 2005|12:21pm] |
Mr. E Slade turns 18, finds himself awared a book of choice. Namely, a romantic adventure book in the second person created by those who know him.
( +++++ )
As if any could come to know the enigma known as Slade.
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[13 May 2005|01:08pm] |
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[16 Jan 2005|05:55pm] |
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Antonius Block: I want to confess as best I can, but my heart is void. The void is a mirror. I see my face and feel loathing and horror. My indifference to men has shut me out. I live now in a world of ghosts, a prisoner in my dreams.
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[30 Aug 2004|03:20am] |
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The snotgreen sea. The scrotumtightening sea.
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