two sizes too small

an english lesson i dont understand.

ishmael [2:38 PM]: you ever find yourself making fun of people to their faces and they dont get it and laugh along?

danger man [2:39 PM]: like _____?

ishmael [2:39 PM]: prime example

danger man [2:40 PM]: then yes

ishmael [2:43 PM]: i often say things to ___ where i am openly mocking his lack of compreshension and he just chuckles and repeats his diatribe

he's like a gold fish

his gob's constantly moving yet he retains nothing

.o0O

danger man [2:46 PM]: Hey look, there's a man with bubbles coming out of his head

Look a castle!

Look, a plant!

ishmael [2:46 PM]: holy shit, who's that hot half fish chick?

danger man [2:46 PM]: Look! A Man with bubbles coming out of his head!!!

Wow. A castle!

ishmael [2:46 PM]: holy shit!

danger man [2:47 PM]: Where did that naked fish chick come from?

ishmael [2:47 PM]: mermaids of course

if he cant recall a castle he saw 3 seconds ago, its doubtful he's recall the technical term for a mermaid

danger man [2:47 PM]: no kidding

have we had the discussion about which half before?

I suspect I've discussed that with you before

ishmael [2:48 PM]: yes we have

danger man [2:48 PM]: of course

ishmael [2:49 PM]: etf

danger man [2:49 PM]: now we are like an old couple


danger man [2:49 PM]: it only took 4.5 years

that's not bad actually


danger man [2:49 PM]: I only have like 4 conversations with my brothers

ishmael [2:49 PM]: the same ones? how many have we had?

danger man [2:50 PM]: hundred I'd reckon

ishmael [2:50 PM]: i like that number

its almost too bad yer not trying to be a psychologist cuz you'd have about 5 different thesis' from our ramblings together

maybe we should publish a paper anyways

danger man [2:51 PM]: why not?

it'd be interesting if not illuminating



ishmael [2:54 PM]: amen.

illuminating for us or for everyone else?

danger man [2:55 PM]: I don't really care about anyone else

ishmael [2:56 PM]: awww

i feel so special

danger man [2:56 PM]: look how much effort it takes to be my friend

ishmael [2:56 PM]: i actually dont really try all that hard

seems to come naturally

danger man [2:57 PM]: cause you are easy to get along with

ishmael [2:57 PM]: oh. maybe.

danger man [2:57 PM]: easy with towards get along?

easy along with getting?

ishmael [2:57 PM]: we are towarding to this getting of the along

danger man [2:57 PM]: friggin dangling participles

ishmael [2:57 PM]: here we are for going!

bonus*

hallow'd chords struck to
resonate in your skull while
your heart hums along

secret gardens...

the classy way to commit suicide.

i've got to keep reminding myself that the time on the stove is correct
before these years catch
up with me
like so many dead flys on the window sill.

this will have to do until I get paid

slow claps

i drink with the moon
and she salutes my wide grin
in pale agreement

feel me.

pro-not spending money or any more tooth chips

ishmael [11:48 AM]:dude, my lip ring is infected and i cant take it out cuz i chomped down on it, hurts like a mother fucker

guns [11:48 AM]: oooooo ouch!

do you have any cleanser? like dragon mist or lavender soap?

ishmael [11:49 AM]: i've been soaking it with salt water to no avail

i might have to go to a pierce shop for assistance to take it off

i don't want to take it out

guns [11:49 AM]: would you be taking it out for good or just putting another ring on?

ishmael [11:50 AM]: putting another one in until it heals

its swollen and too tight

guns [11:50 AM]: oh that's not too bad. honestly, i think you can avoid that

ishmael [11:50 AM]: oh really?

how so, gimme some tips since yer senior to me in this department

ishmael [11:58 AM]: i dont want to have to chomp down on another one unless i have to

guns [12:14 PM]: for sure. my recommendation is getting some ectopic solution, it helps keep it moist and clean

ishmael [12:15 PM]: ectopic?

guns [12:16 PM]: sorry, topical, not ectopic

ishmael [12:16 PM]: i was wondering. i was slightly worried there was a fetus growing in my lip and was like ' nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo'

abort! ABORT!

commissioned.

Why global warming is pretty much the best thing that ever happened to super models: first draft


********




When you think about beef, you think about going to the beach, am I right? Wrong. When I think about beef I think about poor displaced indigenous tribes in southern America whom no one really cares about since they eschew using things like the postal system, last names, or anything aside from loin cloths. And some times they even eschew loin cloths. Don’t even mention their aversion to parking lots which accompany weekend trips to the mall. These poor little bastards have to shoot their food with blow darts, and you'd be hard pressed to find a cow that would succumb to a blow dart. Unless it was a miniature cow, manufactured by science. Which is how 'scientists' plan on decreasing the amount of land we have to use as grazing pasture and focus on food staples like, I dunno: rice.


As far as I can tell, a 'scientist' decided it was a great idea to jam some cow junk into a test tube then feed it growth hormones ( these are not olympiad cows, just cows for olympiads to eat, since olympiads need all the protein they can get before game day. Or is that carbs? Anyways...) and boom; we can now stop cutting down all of the Amazon. This is a good-ish idea in theory, but where did the 'scientist' get the growth hormones to feed the amorphous mass in the laughing cow test tube? Humans.


Which is where super models come in. Anorexia is a much better solution to the food crisis than having to grow fake cows. Just stop eating. The need for mass marketed food consumption decreases. The 54 billion animals raised in the farms can now run free, if not still domesticated, and lord knows they'll require all the rainforest they need to assuage their appetites after being able to roam further than 3 square centimetres for the duration of their miserable lives.

And we'll be left with a hyper sexy society that can find new ways things to become complacent about. Like, the oceans.

The end.


ps: i got a free BBQ flipper with a built in serrated knife on the side while buying vodka today, so let's hold off on this anorexia thing until i can use it. at least once. It was free for chrissakes.

sorry we are sorry

welcome to the century
that is hallowed and reminiscent of

times less democratic

the correlation between the senses
and

an excellant introduction
to being human.

the night that ends in courage

a lesson in brevity,

in calm

dulcet tones on

pale grey nights.


drown under their own small sounds.

mute with longing

fat tuesday

ishmael [2:32 PM]: i love how people freak out when an animal at the zoo dies

danger man [2:33 PM]: .o0O

ishmael [2:33 PM]: like natural selection doesn't exist

danger man [2:33 PM]: it doesn't. God created a baby tiger out of dust and shoved it up that mommy tiger

ishmael [2:33 PM]: ahahahahaha

and will now ensure it doesn't get poached

like when the capybara was crushed in that door

ummm, rodent people

danger man [2:34 PM]: mmmmmm poached tiger with hollandaise

ishmael [2:34 PM]: the fact it's enourmous should be more disconcerting

which has an interesting god twist itself. the pope made capybara a fish! by special dispensation so the south american natives they were forcing their religion on could eat it on fridays

danger man [2:38 PM]: I hadn't heard that

ishmael [2:39 PM]: we have rules. but this one doesn't matter so we'll ignore it...

which means i could be specially dispensated as a man and my unions wouldn't be so abominable any more

but wheres the fun in that

danger man [2:40 PM]: well, the fish rule has been removed altogether

and I can't find anything online that doesn't look like a legend or joke about the capybara thing

ishmael [2:40 PM]: the filet o fish at mcdonalds was introduced especially for that reason as well

sales plummeted on fridays, so ray kroc was like ' wtf! let's put mince meal on a bun!'

danger man [2:41 PM]: yes I have heard that before

ishmael [2:41 PM]: i read it somewhere i can recall where

hhmmm

mayhaps i have been duped

danger man [2:42 PM]: everything I've found so far just refers to "The Pope" around the 16th century

pretty vague details

looks like at least the local clergy called it a fish

cause it's like a beaver

if it spends more time in the water, you can eat it during lent

ishmael [2:44 PM]: fish and beaver do taste similar

danger man [2:45 PM]: I wouldn't know

is that a truthful statement or some lesbian double entendre I am passing over?

ishmael [2:46 PM]: why would i eat a real beaver? i'm kanuckistani. that would just be unpatriotic

danger man [2:46 PM]: ew

not that there's anything wrong with that

ishmael [2:50 PM]: nothing at alllllll

i'm obviously posting this conversation on stripmall dojo

what would you like your pseudonym to be

danger man [2:56 PM]: come up with something exciting

ishmael [3:07 PM]: danger man

no too obvious it's you

danger man [3:08 PM]: Danger man is obviously me?

ishmael [3:08 PM]: clearly

but now you have to be danger man

danger man [3:08 PM]: in bizarro land

ishmael [3:09 PM]: stripmall dojo IS bizarre

much like this conversation

in this house, there is no order

cabbies.

this morning my cab driver told me

" if it was not for your voice i would think you a boy."



well thanks, mister cab driver.


broke my tooth and almost didnt make it to brunch. reminds me of a yarn....

going to amerika and then the dentist.


reception: tepid. as in luke warm? we only make calls before 8 am.

one of the few instances where speechless~ness
over came.


come over.
i'm paying.
insert dainty piano lilt and then we can can carry on to
the finer points of
falling in love.


time after time after time after it all. what happened

when we stopped saying 'good night'
and you let me hang hang hang around


i am an animal.



in your cares
in your cause
in your likeness






give it time. and you will care about the cause of the likeness
falling
as



if


we


were


finer than the silken curtains that blow careless and

free

its only humid in the afternoons...

elevated in stone. & rubble.

good god, this monologue is getting long.



to be sure, there is good
in everyone.



three out of ten ain't bad, especially when you're gunning for none.


it's all very weighty. exacting.


there's no end to the proverbial books and the day of one's dying



better than his birth.



exactly. copyright of the canon, and amen.


someday we're sure to see in the errant beauty of the night.



everyone. in everyone.



good god, what will become when it's one and
the
same.

let it ride out in the dusk, yes, only now in the dusk

dandelions...

i'm rich

oooooooooohhhhhhh.



it's okay, i understand.

being honest hurts.




if i was rich. would it matter. i doubt it.


but i doubt everthing. especially if i was
president.

you cant be in


charge.


only chipped teeth

know hope.

slow down.

when he hath tried me,
i shall come forth as gold.

- job

aural math

crash

remember the time we got into the accident. you screaming and me stoic. cambrian and robson, in the third block of the tenth street phase. so many names and so many places. the cemetery on the otherside of this life and a pastoral reminder of our youth. the litigation of naivete when you realize you are happy but cant tell anyone.

follow the template, follow your heart. always be thankful for what you've avoided. the last time we spoke, you told me you couldn't lie. and that you knew that i had tried. i followed the template and the draw of the soft blue gaze. i'm thankful you left before i blurred all of the lines.

yesterday was your birthday. i woke up thinking of white gold forge promises shattered and owned. i thought of fireflies and final exchanges, as my heart beat slowly in time with rain that was smashing in from the dim pink light. after the crash. after it all. you live on the otherside of this life, and always will.

splendid view.

cotTage land!!!

i'm goin' down the coast

surprise, surprise



an eye patch and a reel for the
tavern

you will always be my comrade. i dont care
if you


don't like

socialists.

i'm goin' down the coast and wanted to know

if you'd like a

postcard.


despite being romantically unintact.

1,000 stamps or something like that...




bad night. good morning. good night.


another good night.


i lost my lust. just another vice. just another bad morning.

if you epitomized awesome, you'd look like this. from this position....just relax

know your sound tech.

shut the door, shut the door.

Convinced Coops that I could resurrect his b ball career. Had to mention Arnie to Sinbad, Told him the governator was looking to do another christmas movie. The rest are just details.
-PRIMETIME

talking like a jerk except you are an actual jerk...living proof that sometimes friends are mean

discretion, as a rule, is generally advised.



:hi, i'm shirlene:


i had an aunt once. went picking black diamonds on the side of a

clearing near the number three

just off the border



whiskey soaked unfortunate insider barter wounds make

sunday the
benign ancestor of


ajo!




next stop sonora, where there is a search and



striped toweled off remnants of

words, stressed and dross scummed



U-G-L-Y.... the delta. celebrity news still cant stay the plague



recede.ebb.recede.ebb.


recede.


i hate to be cliche but

it comes naturally




i wish i was a tree. pls, miss, please.

army surplus idylwyld

one day i'll have my dream job

guns [11:51 AM]:
there is a man outside that is smoking and painting the picnic table

guns [11:51 AM]:
made me think of you

guns [11:51 AM]:
he also has a limp

guns [11:52 AM]:
gives him personality

ishmael [11:52 AM]:
why did you think of me? cuz i paint and smoke?

guns [11:52 AM]:
im not really sure

guns [11:52 AM]:
cuz it seems like something you would do?

ishmael [11:52 AM]:
do i have a limp?

guns [11:52 AM]:
no....

guns [11:52 AM]:
not yet...

ishmael [11:53 AM]:
i have a swagger though

guns [11:53 AM]:
same thing, one is confident and the other is painful

ishmael [11:53 AM]:
there you go

guns [11:55 AM]:
he just hobbled away

guns [11:55 AM]:
i miss him already

ishmael [11:55 AM]:
you are cute

guns [11:55 AM]:
somedays

light breaks

welcome to flava cuntry

geek speek

the dude [5:26 PM]:
some mother's children

the dude [5:26 PM]:
I swear.

ishmael [5:26 PM]:
punte madre's

the dude [5:26 PM]:
Don't talk about my goat like that.

ishmael [5:27 PM]:
i love goats

the dude [5:27 PM]:
nobody loves goats

ishmael [5:27 PM]:
the goat is the oldest domesticated animal

the dude [5:28 PM]:
I had a sweet mom joke for that

the dude [5:28 PM]:
but I refrained.

ishmael [5:28 PM]:
never refrain from mom jokes.

ishmael [5:29 PM]:
life's too short not to eat the jam out of the jar

the dude [5:29 PM]:
fine

the dude [5:29 PM]:
your mom is the oldest domesticated animal

Scott Bowling [5:29 PM]:
pwned.

ishmael [5:29 PM]:
clearly

ishmael [5:30 PM]:
ps: tell yer mom i had fun last night. no one wanted to try the bull whip before

ishmael [5:31 PM]:
though she owes me for the xanax

ishmael [5:31 PM]:
that shits not free

the dude [5:33 PM]:
I just vomited in my mouth

ishmael [5:35 PM]:
pwned.

the dude [5:35 PM]:
clearly

is your blood red? are you breathing?

tonight

i am sleeping in my bed.


wish me luck

i'm surprised how we fit together and that I will remember...

dude, where's my mom?

zoltan! [11:36 AM]:
i don't like it when ppl are telling me how to live my life

zoltan![11:36 AM]:
or that they think they have a right to know

zoltan! [11:45 AM]:
my mom thinks she has the right to tell me to bring her grandchild to her house without (son's name)'s mom cause she still doesn't approve of her. Like WTF.. why should i do all the ass kissing if she won't even meet me half way and come over to my house to see her grandchild

zoltan![11:45 AM]:
i would never treat my kids like that

ishmael [11:46 AM]:
did you tell her to fuck off?

zoltan![11:47 AM]:
ya indirectly... i told her she is more then welcome to come to my house to see (son's name) but i will not be the first to bring him to their house

zoltan! [11:47 AM]:
she bascially said she won't be coming over so i'm told her its her loss not mine

ishmael [11:47 AM]:
i think the words 'fuck off' will rectify any lingering suspicions she has on your stance and determination

tombstone blues. the fembots

From the chill of the morning to the chill of the grave
I carry a gun at my side
My love was beauty and my love was blind
And my love was struck down by my foolish pride

Faint as an echo forbidden to fade
I'm haunted and haunting the words that you said

Cast off your tombstone, rest there no more
Give shape to the shadows that darken my door
Come down from the hillside and take up your place
Put back the colours that fell from your face

Won't you put back the colours that fell from your face

riley & sunset

three kinds of yes

three kinds of yes today and all i
know right now
is sun is setting. not that it bothers me,


but the census lady came by
the other day

'first name?'

a.r.t.i.c.u.l.a.t.e.d.

'last name?'

r.e.p.e.a.t.

'do you have and dogs or cats?'

s.a.d.l.y.n.o............






i wish i was a wolf cub. urbanite canis familiaris
howling and acceptable.

under the ink black sheath of
arctic under growth accessibility


to pacts and tribunal
ascension to an extension of my
littered awareness in karma

e.e.

'poshlost'

Poshlost is an untranslatable Russian word (пошлость) defined as a
kind of "petty evil or self-satisfied vulgarity" (Alexandrov 1991). At more length (and with a more scholarly romanization) Boym
(1994) writes:

Poshlost' is the Russian version of banality, with a characteristic
national flavoring of metaphysics and high morality, and a peculiar
conjunction of the sexual and the spiritual. This one word encompasses
triviality, vulgarity, sexual promiscuity, and a lack of spirituality.
The war against poshlost' is a cultural obsession of the Russian and
Soviet intelligentsia from the 1860s to 1960s.

otto

pulp free, irony enriched

i am nauseous.


my spittle tastes like ashtray cuz i broke down and had a syrian
cigarette last night. up at 2 am, reading bukowski and drunk. i had
to get into the spirit, as mines been crushed as of late. i worry too
much. i feel like a kid. i made a sandwich with new ingredients. i
smoked some more and felt a comfort in coating my insides.

maybe they last longer than my mind now.

i wish there were dog races. note to self* move someplace you can go to
the track year round. look at women. try and pick a winner on a 60
to 1 split, and get robbed. i've never been to the track, but i know
dykes and divorcee's who have. one hates me, and the other only loves
me. in that order. in that style. ala mode' for the sub-sets.

later, i'll have to leave the house. and i will almost certainly
spend money. you cant get by on trade anymore.

copyright of gene roddenberry no.2

best comment wins a drunken running high five, primetime stylz...

no such thing

the end should be a good one.

well thought out.


climax and fall

collect and combine all pertinent details

and prepare for collapse.


there's no such thing as:


good byes

well wishes

relapses

or sweetness in schemes.




last cigarettes on tan vistas.

honesty in her eyes.

sweat filled exhortations and


broken contracts scrawled on little ears, unravelling like rockets

imported with ease.

just kidding around

T.G.I.sacrifice

ishmael [2:56 PM]:
it's been a long week and i am super grumpy

co-worker[2:57 PM]:
it really has been...u have a long weekend??

ishmael [2:57 PM]:
yeah. thank jesus...for once.

ishmael[2:57 PM]:
if his pale unemployed ass hadn't been nailed up, i'd be werkin til at least saturday. and no one needs that

ishmael[2:58 PM]:
thanks for taking one for the team, big fellah

co-worker [2:58 PM]:
i feel bad for laughing at that

ishmael [2:59 PM]:
don't feel bad. he really cant hear you. people's ear drums don't work after they die cuz their brain isn't working and cant process the mild electrical signals that sound waves result in after they hit our ears

ishmael [2:59 PM]:
so yer cool

i wish i could be the still frames you see before you fall away

the napkin story

we had been camping in the bush for a couple days previous to getting to a
place in the middle of northern botswana called 'maun'. we needed to replenish our supplies to go on another extended week of camping in another park, and were spending the day in what is easily the busiest town for 400 miles.

my uncle and i went to grab something to eat before leaving as we saw
a pizza parlour and we were super tired of eating cold beans and a tomatoes on toast. so we rock in there, and the gentleman behind the counter obviously hadn't
encountered a lot of teen aged white girls, so he was kinda fascinated by
me.

as i purchased my piece of pizza, he was chatting me up , asking me questions and was not subtle about
making eyes. it was all very flattering, but i realized as i walked
away that i had nothing to wipe my face with. so i go back to the
counter.

"can i have a napkin please?"

his face drops and even though he's blacker than NIGHT, he blushes and
doesn't know what to do - just stands there staring at me. my uncle
then leans over and tells me:

" you just asked for a sanitary pad, and you have tomato sauce on yer face."

eric and mia Gave me a bowtie and a mandate...

RE: The campening II

Dear ishmael,
In answer to your questions of March 23rd:
1. I left yesterday morning at about 5:30am. This was out of a desire for easy money.
2. The tooth is trying to destroy my other teeth by a method called "horizontal impaction". It must be stopped and I shall be having surgery on the 30th or thereabouts.








figure 1 - The tooth that hates other teeth


3. The sky is blue because molecules in the air scatter blue light from the sun more than they scatter red light. And, when you look towards the sun at sunset, you see red and orange colours because the blue light has been scattered out and away from the line of sight.
-__


***************************


mister _________, you are one crazy mofo. when did you leave? how's yer tooth? why is the sky blue?

the plaza

sex sister

there were 4 of them between the ages of 30 and 45 and
all they talked about was men and sex, i mean,
it was all-consuming, to them there wasn't anything
else


i was living with the youngest sister and she had me
performing sexual acts i had never even heard of
before.

"now, let's try this."

"all right."

at first it was lively, adventurous, even
humorous
but
as the months and nights added up i
began to resent it like - oh, here we go with SEX
again!
(she also liked to do it in strange places like public
parks or in automobiles while i was driving.)


i began to feel that all the sisters were crazy; in fact,
one of them had been in a madhouse ( the one i was with).

the sisters had boisterous, screeching laughs, really
rather ugly laughs
and i began drinking more so i could tolerate
them and their laughter.


the drinking made the sister i was with quite angry
because sometimes i would just go to sleep
instead of performing.


i finally told my lady that i couldn't take it anymore
and that it was over and she seemed to accept that at first
but finally it was not to be so:
she began to phone me continually, mostly at night,
around 3 or 4 a.m.: " YOU'VE GOT SOMEBODY THERE,
HAVEN'T YOU?"


she followed me everywhere. once i took some clothes in
to the cleaners and when i came out my car was nearly
destroyed - ripped upholstery, shattered windows, torn
dashboard, all within 3 or 4 minutes.
it looked as if a tiger had been in the car.


another time i was making love to another lady when my
bedroom window was
smashed open and there was the sister's face, twisted, spitting
at me, " YOU FUCKING BASTARD!" then she was
gone.


the lady in bed was terrified, trembling. " what was
that?"


"nothing, baby, nothing."

the sex sister also tried to murder me a couple of times in a couple
of different ways and just missed both
times.
let me tell you the police weren't much
help, they picked her up but she somehow convinced
them that i was at fault.


"there's nothing wrong with that lady," they told me,
both times.


two squads of officers.


maybe she had sex with the whole gang of
them?


fortunately, as the months went on she gradually abandoned her
terrorist attacks until finally it was just a weepy
phone call or two and then a letter or two then,
silence.


she probably found somebody who could perform all the tricks that
she had taught me and could probably perform them
better. i hope
so.


and i just hope he likes sex
62 times a
month.



~c.bukowski

....nice place to visit....

indian bluffs

after a interesting run in at a costume party on saturday, it has been acsertained that my indian name ( as epithetical as that actually is...the language of hate! and gambling!) is:

laughs and walks away.





we also ascertained my porn name, but i cant remember it, as i was laughing too hard at this guy dressed as speed racer for defending himself by using the excuse for not doing something because he was " watching season one of smallville."

"The Lonesome Death Of Hattie Carroll"

"The Lonesome Death Of Hattie Carroll"

William Zanzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll
With a cane that he twirled around his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore hotel society gath'rin'
And the cops were called in and his weapon took from him
As they rode him in custody down to the station
And booked William Zanzinger for first-degree murder
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears
Take the rag away from your face
Now ain't the time for your tears.

William Zanzinger who at twenty-four years
Owns a tobacco farm of six hundred acres
With rich wealthy parents who provide and protect him
And high office relations in the politics of Maryland
Reacted to his deed with a shrug of his shoulders
And swear words and sneering and his tongue it was snarling
In a matter of minutes on bail was out walking
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears
Take the rag away from your face
Now ain't the time for your tears.

Hattie Carroll was a maid in the kitchen
She was fifty-one years old and gave birth to ten children
Who carried the dishes and took out the garbage
And never sat once at the head of the table
And didn't even talk to the people at the table
Who just cleaned up all the food from the table
And emptied the ashtrays on a whole other level
Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane
That sailed through the air and came down through the room
Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle
And she never done nothing to William Zanzinger
And you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears
Take the rag away from your face
Now ain't the time for your tears.

In the courtroom of honor, the judge pounded his gavel
To show that all's equal and that the courts are on the level
And that the strings in the books ain't pulled and persuaded
And that even the nobles get properly handled
Once that the cops have chased after and caught 'em
And that ladder of law has no top and no bottom
Stared at the person who killed for no reason
Who just happened to be feelin' that way witout warnin'
And he spoke through his cloak, most deep and distinguished
And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance
William Zanzinger with a six-month sentence
Oh, but you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fearsv
Bury the rag deep in your face
For now's the time for your tears.



~b.dylan c.1963

good as locked

party trix

towards the end of the night, find someone who is holding a drink in the hand that they wear their wrist watch on.


' excuse me, could you tell me what time it is?'



hilarity ensues.







it's kind of a dick move, but a lot of the times it starts conversations. that and pointing out the fact that someone doesnt look like they are having fun. who's concerned with time at a party?


at the first birthday party ever thrown for me ( 23 i think...pretty sure....it was raucous) i was the last person to be shown the door. at 8.30 the next morning. after an epic game of pin the tail on the donkey. which i am fairly certain i lost....but i cant recall.


i stumbled home to bob dylan and parent callings. a futon rich with warmth and distance. all at once. movies of the life i never saw in theatre. november. there was porn confetti and puppy sized holes in one's heart. scotch. i could never be a proper bouncer. i'm too friendly.





'he's related to you....'





sonic astral projections detailing the fall/outings of a summer once spent true. i dont know what inspires the thoughts of cinders and swirling mysticism of the northern nevadan desert. what makes the sunshine.




lateral~ism. that seems new.
remember ghost lakes and the new.
remember.

I heart bowness

http://stripmalldojo.blogspot.com/

my friend rico.

ishmael [2:51 PM]:
he sends me a text message last night asking me if i would be opposed to referring to him as 'primetime' from now on
ishmael [2:51 PM]:
and i told him if he doesnt mind calling me 'the hotness' we're game on
ishmael [2:51 PM]:
so now all text messages are tagged with the signature '- primetime'
ishmael [2:52 PM]:
'how was the hotnesses day?' - primetime
ishmael [2:53 PM]:
'primetime slept in. prime time got some school work in, prime time helped his uncle and they watched the game. primetime's team won their game. prime time is now heading home. - enrique
ishmael [2:54 PM]:
'-primetime'
ishmael [2:54 PM]:
( cuz i guess he forgot he wasn't enrique anymore, then had to let me know he remembered with a text containing just his new name hyphenated from nowhere)

breaking badly timed news

sundays dont make sense sometimes....they have a shine that never
lacks the lustre of being free, though it's imminently connected to
truncation....stop trying to understand and just
break down under the fevered need for fire and blood and cede to the
desires i know i cant satiate tomorrow or the next life.

do yerself the justice of knowing that dead mans curs(V)e is more than
just east of eden and making sure that the importance of rebellion is
never far from being lost and broken and trying to kill the remembrances of the ones you
love.

to and from atlanta. i can smell the georgian peach juice all
over their state, stinking from the humid heat in moustaches and
eighties glasses and camouflage tank tops with orange neon swimming
trunks.....

'how do i feel? - i feel all fucking hopped up on froot loops and
cap'n crunch and a plethora of other incorrectly spe'lt cereals.

2 for 1.

, and dont fucking
mispronounce it - it's nav-a HO!!!!!!@!!!!!!!!!!!!'

it's a two headed escutcheon.
it's a talent. being dual - lipped. one to talk out of
and one to make my point with.

!hoo-rah.

'if you do it again, I'mm gonna freak out...c'mon let's doitagain!!!!'

http://stripmalldojo.blogspot.com/

copyright of gene rodenberry

Best comment wins my approval...
http://stripmalldojo.blogspot.com/

the beach(es)

http://stripmalldojo.blogspot.com/

one of these mornings

http://stripmalldojo.blogspot.com/



".....summertime,
and the livin' is easy
fish are jumpin'
and the cotton is high...."

5ive for the honey

one for the honey and
several more to get the courage up.

not asking and not kissing

is the most telling sign



of the season.



notes so low and structured. hounds teeth teal mock blue reverse sky word proclivities.



slow down, try to stay awake.
thriving on the chaos for the hearts and stakes.



shoes matching gaze matching beat matching fathoms
and more archaic euphemisms for


depth.and

the death. of my character.



and never the twain shall meet.

pele

http://stripmalldojo.blogspot.com/

i survived. and all i got was this bitchin' outlook on life...

kurt vonnegut was one savvy punte madre. thats a good thing. in a lecture he gave at clowes hall in indianapolis in 1997 that was published in the book ' armageddon in retrospect', he gives the following advice to new writers:


(ahem)


" dont use semi colons! they are transvestite hermaphrodites, representing exactly nothing. all they do is suggest you might have gone to college."




prudent. to say the least.


now go read the book and stop hurting each other.

bon, bon, bon bon c'est bon

एडिट

you're the only tennessee

setting out in search of the trickle down. town.
could be worse.



should be coming soon. coming home.

our heart break will be televised.
votes on how much you like this commentary.
and 7 other personal opinings.



tiny desks. winning numbers.

there's a hole where my pocket used to be. and i cant find my




changes. quartered and drawn.



recovered from this secretive cinematic bravado.
the song goes on forever...

haiku&i

here comes the one...

head in lap, heart in mouth.

and that's a fact.

the last corner 'round the track.

ashen and less than holy, and in forty days


you'll have my back.




leaves of grass and arguments concerning gawd. merge with the

infinite pleasure of never knowing, always knowing.



punch out a tune instead of a face, and we're three steps forward and three steps back. a drunken waltz for a failing trust.




post cards for the downwardly mobile. one for every failed prayer.

donations will be matched if they are dated before the thaw.