Me: I'm high functioning today with a clarity that's been lacking lately
Me: if you have any questions about life or the mysterious things I can probably answer them
Dawn: Ha
Dawn: ...REDACTED...
much back and forth redactioning...
Me: I thought I was going to get a math question???
Friday, July 31, 2009
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Friday, July 10, 2009
Friday, July 3, 2009
neighbors
Some new neighbors moved in and they were nice. Her name is Jackey and he's Mike.
Sooo friendly, and sooo much furniture. Where will they walk???
It made me wonder (meeting these fresh faced innocents) how much about the hood they are familiar with?
Do you like the sound of truck horns at 5AM?
How about throbbing disco fuck at 2AM?
Screaming losers trying to remember how to hail a cab and where they live at 3AM?
Yes- I'm talking about the same night! Are you familiar with these things? Huh? Are you?
I think not.
This is the land of sound sleepers. INSOMNIACS. Drunks (hello), potheads (hello again- have we met?) and pillow warriors.
Are you of this mettle?
Oh, and the smells...
Do you know what hoof smells like?
Kidding- there's no hoof smells, it's more like grandma in the attic than anything else.
Are you shocked by blood? Do great steaming trucks of animal goo give you pause?
Have you ever seen a person put a pig carcass in a trunk?
Has your dog ever snapped up a strange piece of red something pulp when you were not paying attention?
I think not my new friends. I think not...
Then... later... I think about my own situation. And how I really SHOULD move. More space, A GARDEN and maybe cheaper rent (ha- Pilsen???). But, for sure I'm trapped. This place is in my un-ground up bones now. Seeped into the sinewy flesh still attached to those bones. I just can't picture moving. EVER. The Saturday mornings when they bring out the power washers and the streets smell like bleach. Ahh, sooo nice. Smells like victory or a really clean bathtub or something. The familiar wave of the one meat packing guy I know (although we never talk- we just wave, this is somehow enough). I won't forget this ever.
This doesn't mean I won't complain or wear my suffering like a badge. And even if I did make it out of here (god willing), I picture myself being pulled back from time to time, hanging around like some lurking pallet wrangler or semi jockey (I'm not really sure what these guys do?). Just checking out the action. Cause I ALWAYS need the action.
I did not tell the neighbors this...
Sooo friendly, and sooo much furniture. Where will they walk???
It made me wonder (meeting these fresh faced innocents) how much about the hood they are familiar with?
Do you like the sound of truck horns at 5AM?
How about throbbing disco fuck at 2AM?
Screaming losers trying to remember how to hail a cab and where they live at 3AM?
Yes- I'm talking about the same night! Are you familiar with these things? Huh? Are you?
I think not.
This is the land of sound sleepers. INSOMNIACS. Drunks (hello), potheads (hello again- have we met?) and pillow warriors.
Are you of this mettle?
Oh, and the smells...
Do you know what hoof smells like?
Kidding- there's no hoof smells, it's more like grandma in the attic than anything else.
Are you shocked by blood? Do great steaming trucks of animal goo give you pause?
Have you ever seen a person put a pig carcass in a trunk?
Has your dog ever snapped up a strange piece of red something pulp when you were not paying attention?
I think not my new friends. I think not...
Then... later... I think about my own situation. And how I really SHOULD move. More space, A GARDEN and maybe cheaper rent (ha- Pilsen???). But, for sure I'm trapped. This place is in my un-ground up bones now. Seeped into the sinewy flesh still attached to those bones. I just can't picture moving. EVER. The Saturday mornings when they bring out the power washers and the streets smell like bleach. Ahh, sooo nice. Smells like victory or a really clean bathtub or something. The familiar wave of the one meat packing guy I know (although we never talk- we just wave, this is somehow enough). I won't forget this ever.
This doesn't mean I won't complain or wear my suffering like a badge. And even if I did make it out of here (god willing), I picture myself being pulled back from time to time, hanging around like some lurking pallet wrangler or semi jockey (I'm not really sure what these guys do?). Just checking out the action. Cause I ALWAYS need the action.
I did not tell the neighbors this...
theories
Al Qaeda (or more likely Iranian special agents) killed Michael Jackson.
This is obvious to most of us in the intelligence community. We just can't say it because it would devastate the populace.
(KIDDING- I joke but, seriously check it out. Ha, I'm still joking. Someone's looking into this right?)
This is obvious to most of us in the intelligence community. We just can't say it because it would devastate the populace.
(KIDDING- I joke but, seriously check it out. Ha, I'm still joking. Someone's looking into this right?)
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