Eyes loves ewes.

I saw a fox on my way to work today.

Currently listening : Fleet Foxes By Fleet Foxes Release date: 2008-06-03

7:49 AM - 2 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

New and improved Sod houses

Friends. Let's be more realistic about the future.

There will be no flying cars. Sadly, no robot maids (with the exception of the Roomba) No laser guns. And absolutely no jet packs. The Rocketeer will never makes its transition from the big screen.

Keep on dreaming...

The future is NOW friends. Just think about what Thomas Jefferson or Napoleon would say now. While they were worried about refilling muskets and ink wells, we have cellphone charms! We have microwaves! We have segways! We have cheez-wiz!(?) The future is now.

We drive long distances at high speeds in large metal cases, fueled by greasy stuff. Horses, now cars. We have these tiny computers in our pockets, purses and bags that can call other really small computers in other people's pockets, purses, and bags. Even if those pockets, purses and bags are in China, Germany, Denmark, or Nova Scotia. No more tin cans. No more snail mail.

The future is now.

9:00 AM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Horse Power.

    BEWARE:

Unbeknowst to you or maybe knowst to you, you may or may not have ingested the marrow of a barn yard animal. Thats right. They call it gelatin but we know what it really is..

Those fruity gummy ticky thick snacks are made out of Mr. Ed's deceased being! I for one will no longer stand for it. Beware of things that are gelatinous. Goopy. Oooozzy. and puddles.

Today 2 new character enter the cast of my life. Mr. No Undershirt Man. Mr. No Undershirt Man struts around the office (and the whole town no doubt) with a tissue thin short sleeve button up white collared shirt on. You can literally see his flesh through this "clothing apparatus" that doesn't really function as a shirt, because he is fundamentally topless. I can see his top.half. Its not sexy...

He is sexy's nemesis

Mr. Undershirt Man meet Mrs. Too Much Perfume.

She comes and sits in the Union. With her aerosol perfume scent that swallows you up like pelican. You don't see her coming, you smell her. No sense in hiding behind newspapers or pillars, her ethereal odor locks itself into your olfactory senses, accosting you, slapping your nostrils in the face. You are suffering while Mrs. Too Much Perfume pleasantly eats her jelly filled chocolate iced and sprinkled doughnut. That is hardly breakfast Mrs. Too Much Perfume. She needs someone to help her make better decisions. She's lucky she has me.

I didn't invite them, but they're here.

Currently reading : The Book of Laughter and Forgetting By Milan Kundera Release date: 07 April, 1999

2:27 PM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Rain. checks.

My internal clock in ticking. Tick tocking and waking me up at early hours of the morning. Early ass hours. Ass hours. 6:30 friends. My circadian rhythm is being irresponsible.

So I wake up. and do a whole lot of this.

I am sitting still, waiting for you to wake up and play.

Not all things come shredded like beef. Shredded and separable.  Some things come in huge stacks or tiny particles. Like the truth. The truth can look like bubble gum, lettuce, or granola. It can have a first name and a last name. My truth comes in little pieces. My truth comes shredded like beef. Honestly.

I am honest in little pieces.

Currently listening : Sung Tongs By Animal Collective Release date: 01 June, 2004

7:19 AM - 2 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

She played Miss Moneypenny

I've got words for you.



Sometimes if you sit really close to me you can hear my bones cracking and popping. The fluids flowing and seeping. Its gross. I'm sorry. Sometimes I look at the faces of people who sit nearby listening to the symphony of my osteoporosis with looks of true disgust. Spine-knuckles-toes-knees- pops. I'm sorry.

Joints and Ligiments = musical instruments.

To match their faces of repugnance, I counter with a face of empathy. I can't help myself. I am a slave and victim too! The snap crackle pop of bones makes me squeezy and maladjusted. I don't want to hear my bones breaking just as much as they do. We are in this together, compatriots, compadres. Lets love each other.

But mostly, lets say we love each other and not really mean it.

Currently listening : Andorra By Caribou Release date: 21 August, 2007

10:20 AM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Hooves, who who

moccasins, mock-o-sins, shmockasins, lockashmins = comfort

Days are now filled with school, work, and public transportation.
Public transportation is the highlight of the day. Everyone on the bus automatically agrees with the fact that, yes, it is hot outside. Too hot to walk, too hot to talk about anything else but the heat, too hot to do anything else but sit uncomfortably close to perfect strangers.

One man on the bus breathes shockingly heavy and hardy. Like a heaving, panting, near death gasping. Comparable having a muffler in your trachea. He has a rather large belly that he drapes in stretched out white t-shirts. He sits close to me on the bus and tries to read over my shoulder. This is not akward at all, I enjoy it. I also enjoy his cologne, which is probably titled "Old Balls."

Me, and all of my friends on the bus.
The glamour of public transportation.

Currently listening : Ella at Duke’s Place By Ella Fitzgerald & Duke Ellington Release date: 27 February, 1996

11:17 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Wigwam

Noteworthy questions to ask yourself that my book asked me today on the bus, courtesy of Chuck Klosterman. Answers to the following questions decide whether or not I can love you.

1) Let us assume a fully grown completely healthy Clydesdale horse has his hooves shackled to the ground while his head is held in place with a thick rope. He is conscious and standing upright, but completely immobile. And let us assume that - for some reason- every political prisoner on earth (as cited by Amnestey International) will be released from captivity if you can kick their horse to death in less than twenty minutes. You are allowed to wear steel-toed boots. Would you attempt to do this?
 
- Yes, I would attempt this.

2) You meet your soul mate. However, there is a catch: Every three years, someone will break both of your soul mate's collarbones with a Crescent wrench, and there is only one way you can stop this from happening: You must swallow a pill that will make every song you hear - for the rest of your life - sound as if it's being performed by the band Alice in Chains. When you hear Creedance Clearwater Revival  it will sound (to your ears) like it's being played by Alice in Chains. If you see Radiohead live, every one of their tunes will sound llike its being covered by Alice in Chains. When you hear a commerical jingle on TV, it will sound like Alice in Chains; if you sing to yourself in the shower, you voice will sound like deceased Alice vocalist Layne Staley performing acapella (but it will only sound this way to you. Would you swallow the pill?

- I've listened to Alice in Chains before, so I am going to have to say no.

3) For reasons that can not be explained, cat can suddenly read at twelfth-grade level. They can't talk and they can't write, but they can read silently and understand the text. Many cats love this new skill, because they now have something to do all day while they lay around the house; however, a few cats become depressed, because reading forces them to realize the limitations of their existence (not to mention the utter frusteration of being unable to express themselves) This being the case, do you think the average cat would enjoy Garfield, or would cats find this cartoon to be an insulton caricature?

- I don't even understand the humor in Garfield.

Currently listening : The Velvet Underground & Nico By The Velvet Underground Release date: 07 May, 1996

1:17 PM - 2 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

It fell down the sink

We have old plumbing in the house. Old old pipes that are fidgety and irritable. Do NOT by any circumstances try to wash anything down the drain. This upsets the pipes. Immensely. I am trying hard not to upset them.

There has been an overwhelming presence of blue jays in my life lately. As I walk about and around, across, above, beneath this town that is becoming increasing balmy and moist by the day. I try not to upset the B.Js either, because thanks to Public television and Wikipedia, they will attack me and I know they too are fidgety and irritable.
There must be blue jays in my pipes.

I like walking in the mornings because its still pleasant outside. The people are pleasant too! Old people in the mornings want to be nice and smile at you. So I smile back, because this is the midwest, and that is what you do. It could be that these people are just old, so old and have no more sensory in their faces and are perpetually smiling.
A smiling disease. It wouldn't surprise me. They probably wish they were dead.

People under the age of 35 are much in control of their facial muscles and don't like it when you smile at them in the morning. Their faces are more like

"Fuck you, I hate being awake in the fucking morning. Mornings fucking suck."

So I try not to upset them either.

Currently listening : Beast Moans By Swan Lake Release date: 21 November, 2006

4:32 AM - 1 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

ärk-tik fäks

Today.
Today I am at work typing very s-l-o-w-l-y to pass the time.

What if we spelled everything phonetically, everything would be spelled like it sounds with no secret, silent or slight -gh's. Everything would just be honest and simple. Not polluted by syntax, grammar or linguistics.
Because really,  who decided how to spell all of these things (words)?

There could be endless possibilities.
I want to write dictionaries. I think it would do the world some good

Currently listening : Brightblack Morning Light By Brightblack Morning Light Release date: 20 June, 2006

7:42 AM - 4 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Spelling Bee

I enjoy my job. Especially on days like today. True, most often than not I am doing some tedious mundane tasks that involves stapling piles of paper but sometimes I am responsible for happenings that require, at least what I pretend, to be an attained skill (reading)...

I write letters to people with names like this:

Vinay Aswathanarayana Reddy Hanumanthareddy Gari

1:21 AM - 3 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment