...smoking MY last cigarette. Damn mooch. Oh well, I needed to quit anyway.
I just wanna know one thing. Is everyone's life right now as bizarre as mine is? Am I the unbeknownst writer-director in this play called life, with characters I've created in my own mind?
Perhaps. Perception is reality. Reality is perception. Is there a difference between those two?
Ah shit, it's curfew, so I better quit pontificating with the sky and get back to bed. I don't need any more electro-shock treatments tonight. Although they do kinda give you a good buzz.
Kinda like a damn good rock hard concert. Or stock car races.
Off to tantric dreamland...
Friday, February 27, 2009
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Truth- Excerpts from ET-101 & Rogue Thought Tributaries
"We have noticed that you pretend to value truth on this planet. Some spend a lifetime seeking it. Your legal systems demand it, and you can be sued if your business doesn't practice it. Your philosophers define it, your scientists measure it, your religions exalt it, and you all fight over it. Meanwhile, all you are doing is paying global lip service to it. There is an excellent reason for this: You have no idea what truth really is. How the obvious escaped you is a tedious story.
The abridged version of it amounts to this: You embraced fear. After that unholy act, it has been downhill ever since. Fear is the first lie, the lie that tells you that you are separated from the whole. Once it has been embraced, you are incapable of ever telling the truth under any circumstances without blowing the game."
Funny how these insights always come in the form of a book, to rip my insidious hermit rug from underneath me in the nick of time. That, and through randomly unrandom word snippets I trip upon that induce unforeseeable laughter. Such as: 'Don't forget to feed your bear. If you don't it will die." What is with the bear theme lately? I suppose that's my energy's way of appealing to the hat I wear in this corporeal form. I've had this book for some time- it's short and succinct. For some reason I haven't read it all. But just now, I found an excerpt onlilne, following a compulsory urge, and synchronicity has in turn provided me a well-timed shot in the buttocks again. I'm glad I didn't see it coming and tense up- sore buttocks suck. Buttocks. Now that's a fun word.
My life is becoming exponentially similar to the reassuring premise of Slaughterhouse Five. It would be considered downright frightening, if I wasn't so fascinated with multi-planular time-travel and teleportation. Do I really have to wait 4 years until Mayan Prophecy 2012? Man, that sucks. Oh wait. Just arrived there. Eight minutes to darkness, and immediate light...
I was tempted to fill out the 25 random things on Facebook about me, because I always loved mad libs. But it just seemed like flipping the trigger to pandora's box. And I didn't want to scare unsuspecting people. Because really... you don't want me to whip out the random stick. Because that dude don't stop at 25. It kicks it frequently with pi. Sometimes the prolificity even scares me. Kinda like boxing a clown. Now that is a pretty disturbing image. But it might be kinda fun. If you stop before Mickey Rourke did. Lessons to learn kids. Lessons to learn.
My parents said they found me under a rock. Maybe that's why I like perusing and picking up rocks. I'm searching for my siblings. If I was a rock, then no one would try to eat me. Except pure jainists. But even rocks have energy. And sometimes they sparkle. And sometimes they have cool holes that you can slip a string through and wear on your neck as a pendant. Not that any of this is related or has any kind of pertinence whatsoever. Just saying.
My dog likes pop rocks. But I noticed an unsettling phenomenon. They crackle in my mouth, but do not in hers. Is dog saliva immune to carbon dioxide? Why in the hell am I ingesting carbon dioxide fruity sugar-flavored rocks anyway? Maybe I'm becoming a plant. Maybe I should read the package. But if I AM a plant, I want to be a rubber tree. It's good to have high hopes. "High apple pie, in the sky hopes... Oops there goes another rubber tree plant..." You sing it Frankie baby.
Damn ant.
If I ever get engaged, a sparkly rock would be cool, but what I really want first is a piece of string offered and tied around my finger during the proposal. I think that would be cooler than the coolest side of the pillow. Simple and complex. String Theory. M Theory. Theory of Everything. Circular. But without the part where my counterpart's evil best friend betrays him and sends him to prison, where he suffers, until he escapes and returns disguised as the Count of Monte Cristo. I just want the cool love string stuff. I don't need the rest of the drama. Except maybe for my counterpart to look as hot as the Count. And be skilled in sword play. Cool story though. And here's a pawn for you, dear avarice and envy. Damn good story indeed.
Someone just wrote "I hope they serve beer in hell" in a personals ad. I love perusing those things to find various fun nuggets of human nature. But this quote elicited an extended onslaught of laughter from deep within my gut. I've no idea why. I don't feel the need to question it tonight, but if one demands an inquiry be made, I'd simply say: Why not? However, I would recommend that writer clarify his statement with "on infinite ice." Because hot beer really just kinda, well, sucks.
The aforementioned relies on the premise that hell's all fiery of course, when it could be more along the lines of Dante and require no disclaimer of frozen water. I think hell's more along the lines of Milton. But more important to me is finding "A paradise within thee, happier far." I like Archangel Michael. He's a wise dude to follow if you want to transcend from this third-dimensional realm. Regardless, a cold beer is still really good. And my handbasket is super cool tricked out. I don't need one prepared, but I had one decorated up for shits and grins. Why not?
And now, friends and concerned attendants speeding ever forward in their white van toward my abode... animals are roaming around my house searching for rogue pretzels and water, and it's time for me to exit left stage to be ravished by oranges.
That is, until we reach the season of bing cherries. I so love me some bing cherries. And tildes.
Pontificatingly Yours~
C
The abridged version of it amounts to this: You embraced fear. After that unholy act, it has been downhill ever since. Fear is the first lie, the lie that tells you that you are separated from the whole. Once it has been embraced, you are incapable of ever telling the truth under any circumstances without blowing the game."
Funny how these insights always come in the form of a book, to rip my insidious hermit rug from underneath me in the nick of time. That, and through randomly unrandom word snippets I trip upon that induce unforeseeable laughter. Such as: 'Don't forget to feed your bear. If you don't it will die." What is with the bear theme lately? I suppose that's my energy's way of appealing to the hat I wear in this corporeal form. I've had this book for some time- it's short and succinct. For some reason I haven't read it all. But just now, I found an excerpt onlilne, following a compulsory urge, and synchronicity has in turn provided me a well-timed shot in the buttocks again. I'm glad I didn't see it coming and tense up- sore buttocks suck. Buttocks. Now that's a fun word.
My life is becoming exponentially similar to the reassuring premise of Slaughterhouse Five. It would be considered downright frightening, if I wasn't so fascinated with multi-planular time-travel and teleportation. Do I really have to wait 4 years until Mayan Prophecy 2012? Man, that sucks. Oh wait. Just arrived there. Eight minutes to darkness, and immediate light...
I was tempted to fill out the 25 random things on Facebook about me, because I always loved mad libs. But it just seemed like flipping the trigger to pandora's box. And I didn't want to scare unsuspecting people. Because really... you don't want me to whip out the random stick. Because that dude don't stop at 25. It kicks it frequently with pi. Sometimes the prolificity even scares me. Kinda like boxing a clown. Now that is a pretty disturbing image. But it might be kinda fun. If you stop before Mickey Rourke did. Lessons to learn kids. Lessons to learn.
My parents said they found me under a rock. Maybe that's why I like perusing and picking up rocks. I'm searching for my siblings. If I was a rock, then no one would try to eat me. Except pure jainists. But even rocks have energy. And sometimes they sparkle. And sometimes they have cool holes that you can slip a string through and wear on your neck as a pendant. Not that any of this is related or has any kind of pertinence whatsoever. Just saying.
My dog likes pop rocks. But I noticed an unsettling phenomenon. They crackle in my mouth, but do not in hers. Is dog saliva immune to carbon dioxide? Why in the hell am I ingesting carbon dioxide fruity sugar-flavored rocks anyway? Maybe I'm becoming a plant. Maybe I should read the package. But if I AM a plant, I want to be a rubber tree. It's good to have high hopes. "High apple pie, in the sky hopes... Oops there goes another rubber tree plant..." You sing it Frankie baby.
Damn ant.
If I ever get engaged, a sparkly rock would be cool, but what I really want first is a piece of string offered and tied around my finger during the proposal. I think that would be cooler than the coolest side of the pillow. Simple and complex. String Theory. M Theory. Theory of Everything. Circular. But without the part where my counterpart's evil best friend betrays him and sends him to prison, where he suffers, until he escapes and returns disguised as the Count of Monte Cristo. I just want the cool love string stuff. I don't need the rest of the drama. Except maybe for my counterpart to look as hot as the Count. And be skilled in sword play. Cool story though. And here's a pawn for you, dear avarice and envy. Damn good story indeed.
Someone just wrote "I hope they serve beer in hell" in a personals ad. I love perusing those things to find various fun nuggets of human nature. But this quote elicited an extended onslaught of laughter from deep within my gut. I've no idea why. I don't feel the need to question it tonight, but if one demands an inquiry be made, I'd simply say: Why not? However, I would recommend that writer clarify his statement with "on infinite ice." Because hot beer really just kinda, well, sucks.
The aforementioned relies on the premise that hell's all fiery of course, when it could be more along the lines of Dante and require no disclaimer of frozen water. I think hell's more along the lines of Milton. But more important to me is finding "A paradise within thee, happier far." I like Archangel Michael. He's a wise dude to follow if you want to transcend from this third-dimensional realm. Regardless, a cold beer is still really good. And my handbasket is super cool tricked out. I don't need one prepared, but I had one decorated up for shits and grins. Why not?
And now, friends and concerned attendants speeding ever forward in their white van toward my abode... animals are roaming around my house searching for rogue pretzels and water, and it's time for me to exit left stage to be ravished by oranges.
That is, until we reach the season of bing cherries. I so love me some bing cherries. And tildes.
Pontificatingly Yours~
C
Saturday, February 21, 2009
My favorite poem of the moment
If you forget me - by Pablo Neruda
I want you to know one thing. You know how this is:
if I look at the crystal moon,
at the red branch of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch near the fire the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists:
aromas, light, metals,were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me.
Well, now, if little by little you stop loving me I shall stop loving you little by little.
If suddenly you forget me do not look for me, for I shall already have forgotten you.
If you think it long and mad, the wind of banners that passes through my life, and you decide to leave me at the shore of the heart where I have roots,
remember that on that day, at that hour,
I shall lift my arms and my roots will set off to seek another land.
But if each day, each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower climbs up to your lips to seek me, ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated, in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms without leaving mine.
A Confederacy of Dunces- Relived
Disclaimer: Far too many people have taken my words too literally today, so if you think I actually advocate meritocratic genocide, then take a chill pill and relax, cowboy. I've no desire to re-enact 1984, any more than I have a desire to re-enact my mile high fortress of a hairdo from that time period. Good God. I've simply got passionate philosophies, constantly evolving, interspersed with random flip, sarcastic bursts of my twisted sense of humor. I can't help it. I'm human too, and that's my quirk (of many...) If you don't get it, that's fine. But stand down on getting your feathers too bent out of shape by it.
Now on to the commentary....
Ah it's nice to see living examples of literature. Today I got to witness and participate in a virtual semantic battle with the trolls (that sounds like a TV show coming to a season near you.) My preferred use of weaponry? A scythe. Hey, with quick death, comes quicker rebirth. Or at least several less annoying specimens throwing their shit-litter for others to pick up.
What wrong corner did the majority of our society turn to completely disregard the need to teach personal responsibility? I've never seen more fearful ostriches sticking their heads in the sand, or rather sticking their heads up their collective ass, judging by the sweet & sickening stench wafting off of their responses to blog topics of substance, which happen to elevate themselves beyond banal predilections of who will win the Oscars, who should get kicked of American Idol, and whom other people are fucking in their home town.
Now on to the commentary....
Ah it's nice to see living examples of literature. Today I got to witness and participate in a virtual semantic battle with the trolls (that sounds like a TV show coming to a season near you.) My preferred use of weaponry? A scythe. Hey, with quick death, comes quicker rebirth. Or at least several less annoying specimens throwing their shit-litter for others to pick up.
What wrong corner did the majority of our society turn to completely disregard the need to teach personal responsibility? I've never seen more fearful ostriches sticking their heads in the sand, or rather sticking their heads up their collective ass, judging by the sweet & sickening stench wafting off of their responses to blog topics of substance, which happen to elevate themselves beyond banal predilections of who will win the Oscars, who should get kicked of American Idol, and whom other people are fucking in their home town.
The original article is here.
http://bigbadbobby.blogspot.com/2009/02/when-companies-just-dont-get-it.html
And the nefarious, albeit very amusing shit-storm that ensued is here.
http://www.tonyskansascity.com/2009/02/kc-blogger-questions-deffenbaugh.html?ext-ref=comm-sub-email
I'm still trying to figure out what all these books and authors are that I'm supposed to have read so I can appear smart. I don't prescribe to pop culture or the erudite's manual of 'what's hot/what's not.' And although I think I have a pretty decent set of brains about me, I've known some pretty fucking stupid smart people, and put more value in whether or not people care enough to be active toward bettering their own lives and the state of this planet, with a sense of humor to deal with the trolls along the way.
So Enjoy. Recycle. Take out your trash. And think about the larger picture of your actions. For dog's sake at least try, and don't give up on caring about yourself, others, and the world you live in. Apathy stinks. You can still sing 'bye-bye bowel movement, going to the sewer treatment factory..." It's a fun song. No one's giving you any crap about that, certainly not me, since I engaged in many a sing-along during Freud's stage 2 of my own development cycle. Provided, of course, that you don't turn around and stick your head back up your ass again. Then I might have to break out the scythe.
Unless I'm in more of a bludgeoning mood... at which point I'll grab my flail. Or maybe, if you dick around long enough in a horsefly-gnat inducing manner, I'll warp sadistic and pull out the acupuncture needles. But I don't really want it to have to go that far man. Believe me, it hurts me far more than it hurts you. Just watch the snippet from the Japanese movie Audition below. Of course, I would never do any of this to anyone. I just had to share the disturbing imagery, so I'm not alone in my nightmares. But be warned. It WILL scar you for life.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Reminds me of a butt in a tanning bed...
Yes. I have anthropomorphic issues.
But this little trickster reminds me of butt cheeks sunning themselves shamelessly.
I'm fairly certain all those lemon drops on Friday night f*cked up my neurons, along with the feathers I ended up accidentally eating off my boa in a fit of inebriated disco joy.
I woke up looking like a rabid cat that swallowed a hot pink punk rock parrot dipped in lemon butter. Not one of my most stellar moments I'm sure... but that damn parrot tasted good. Helluva dancer too. Before I ate him of course. Hey, it was pirate day. I had to do my part.
I stole someone’s fortune today.
Cookie that is. 
Says: A sound mind and healthy body bring many happy events to your family. That's effin' lame. But the real wisdom came on the flip side...
On the back it says BEER. No shit. I like that kinda recommended health regimen.
On the back it says BEER. No shit. I like that kinda recommended health regimen.
More fortunes please! And bring another pitcher. I need to build up some tolerance or I'll find myself wearing more boas.
And enjoying it.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Take a Hike Ike
Ah, hurricane Ike. I wanted to check up on my beloved city of New Orleans, to ensure it was out of harm’s way this last Friday. So I typed in Hurricane Ike NOLA and it brought me to a blog forum, where I tripped unknowingly upon a forum of posts that made me wish I had come home and gone straight to bed instead. That's another hour of my life I will never get back. But I did get a little chuckle at the end.
Despite being disgusted at the flame posts and reiterations upon reiterations of the same sentiment in this forum, the below ding-dong triggered my gag-reflex the most. She even had the dipshititude to repost this revised poem in the second post you’ll find below. We can only find ourselves blessed she did not attempt a ”third times charm.” Seriously.
It sucked ass the first time. My guess is this tenacious f*cktard has an alphabet across the top of her page so she can go through every letter to find something that rhymes, which does NOT make good poetry I assure you. Now don’t get me wrong, I respect loveandlight’s right to post her thoughts-- this is America and free speech and all that jazz-- but please don’t shove the whole box of powdered sugar down our throats again. Find something else you are talented in and partake in that endeavor.
Hundred bucks says she is also a scrapbooker. Holy DOG. What is the world coming to?
Posted by loveandlight on 09/06/08 at 6:52PM
Hi folks, I have been through several hurricanes and tropical storms. I wrote a silly poem about Ike even though the situation could become very serious. I hope you all in New Orleans well as you have suffered so much the past few years. I think the storm will miss you in New Orleans. The poem (revised):
"Take a hike Ike"
Yike, It's Ike
(Which no one likes)
Coming up the pike.
So Mike...
Take your wife and tyke.
Get out on your Harley bike
Before Ike breaks the dike
Take a hike Ike!
We can only hope Mike doesn't evac to NWArk for BBBBQ (Bikes, Blues, and BBQ.) Unless he's trying desperately to escape the poetry of his creator. Please, please, please, please, please loveandlight… spare us any more of your torturous soul-infused offerings of comedic diversion and go smoke some pixie dust in your bathroom. I think you’ve lived through so many tropical storms that your head is full of air. Pray you blow the candy dander elsewhere. My ulcer doesn't need any help revolting thank you.
...But wait here’s more to love. Except this time, high five to GrannyCharli and dafountain for their little retorts to these two holy-rolling ding dongers! loveandlight made my stomach churn voraciously, but twigs224 and tampaman made my whole essence hurl with vomitous loathing. I hear this type of inane crap all the time where I live.
Posted by GrannyCharli on 09/07/08 at 6:26AM
Posted by twigs224 on 09/06/08 at 10:46PM If new orleans was not sin city, maybe God wouldent be so focused on destroying it.*******************************************
Twig...
I've read a lot of stupid and ignorant comments on this board but the above has to be close to the top of the list!!
I would take the time to reiterate my reasons but I feel certain my *point* would be totally lost on someone with your level of intelligence.
Posted by tampaman on 09/07/08 at 8:25AM
What good does come out of New Orleans? It does make me wonder about the Acts of God and the future of New Orleans.
Posted by dafountain on 09/07/08 at 8:50AM
I'm suprised we got so far down into the comments until the "punishment from god" nuts came out. If sin were the criteria for god's wrath I doubt the entire planet would still be here. The only punishment I feel is from religious zealots, the true menace in the world. Oh and yeeeaaa, the track has moved south. Let's hope it stays that way.
Finally. I got something worthwhile and a damn good chuckle from dafountain (despite the misspelling of ‘surpised’.) I think the “punishment from god nuts” need a little of their own elixir. Like maybe some cyanide koolaid in a beer keg field. With some chili cheese fritos. Come on up to Bible Belt, Midwest, and I’ll take ya’ll on a little tour. Yee-haw!
Glad to know these type of nuts and cheeseballs exist everywhere. I was starting to get a complex. I thought they primarily lived in my region. Guess it's time to ring the stupid bell.
*On a serious note, good energy and wishes go out to everyone and everything that got the brunt of Hanna, Gustav, and Ike in both the U.S. and beyond. Poor Cuba. And although I deplore the city of Houston and would never live there willingly in conscious and lucid mind, I don't wish it's citizens ill either. Let's hope hurricane season has passed, and we don't have any more of this shit to go through for awhile and can recover...
This is me- about to vomit. Entitled: Ummm, No thin mint please.
Despite being disgusted at the flame posts and reiterations upon reiterations of the same sentiment in this forum, the below ding-dong triggered my gag-reflex the most. She even had the dipshititude to repost this revised poem in the second post you’ll find below. We can only find ourselves blessed she did not attempt a ”third times charm.” Seriously.It sucked ass the first time. My guess is this tenacious f*cktard has an alphabet across the top of her page so she can go through every letter to find something that rhymes, which does NOT make good poetry I assure you. Now don’t get me wrong, I respect loveandlight’s right to post her thoughts-- this is America and free speech and all that jazz-- but please don’t shove the whole box of powdered sugar down our throats again. Find something else you are talented in and partake in that endeavor.
Hundred bucks says she is also a scrapbooker. Holy DOG. What is the world coming to?
Posted by loveandlight on 09/06/08 at 6:52PM
Hi folks, I have been through several hurricanes and tropical storms. I wrote a silly poem about Ike even though the situation could become very serious. I hope you all in New Orleans well as you have suffered so much the past few years. I think the storm will miss you in New Orleans. The poem (revised):
"Take a hike Ike"
Yike, It's Ike
(Which no one likes)
Coming up the pike.
So Mike...
Take your wife and tyke.
Get out on your Harley bike
Before Ike breaks the dike
Take a hike Ike!
We can only hope Mike doesn't evac to NWArk for BBBBQ (Bikes, Blues, and BBQ.) Unless he's trying desperately to escape the poetry of his creator. Please, please, please, please, please loveandlight… spare us any more of your torturous soul-infused offerings of comedic diversion and go smoke some pixie dust in your bathroom. I think you’ve lived through so many tropical storms that your head is full of air. Pray you blow the candy dander elsewhere. My ulcer doesn't need any help revolting thank you.
...But wait here’s more to love. Except this time, high five to GrannyCharli and dafountain for their little retorts to these two holy-rolling ding dongers! loveandlight made my stomach churn voraciously, but twigs224 and tampaman made my whole essence hurl with vomitous loathing. I hear this type of inane crap all the time where I live.
Posted by GrannyCharli on 09/07/08 at 6:26AM
Posted by twigs224 on 09/06/08 at 10:46PM If new orleans was not sin city, maybe God wouldent be so focused on destroying it.*******************************************
Twig...
I've read a lot of stupid and ignorant comments on this board but the above has to be close to the top of the list!!
I would take the time to reiterate my reasons but I feel certain my *point* would be totally lost on someone with your level of intelligence.
Posted by tampaman on 09/07/08 at 8:25AM
What good does come out of New Orleans? It does make me wonder about the Acts of God and the future of New Orleans.
Posted by dafountain on 09/07/08 at 8:50AM
I'm suprised we got so far down into the comments until the "punishment from god" nuts came out. If sin were the criteria for god's wrath I doubt the entire planet would still be here. The only punishment I feel is from religious zealots, the true menace in the world. Oh and yeeeaaa, the track has moved south. Let's hope it stays that way.
Finally. I got something worthwhile and a damn good chuckle from dafountain (despite the misspelling of ‘surpised’.) I think the “punishment from god nuts” need a little of their own elixir. Like maybe some cyanide koolaid in a beer keg field. With some chili cheese fritos. Come on up to Bible Belt, Midwest, and I’ll take ya’ll on a little tour. Yee-haw!
Glad to know these type of nuts and cheeseballs exist everywhere. I was starting to get a complex. I thought they primarily lived in my region. Guess it's time to ring the stupid bell.
*On a serious note, good energy and wishes go out to everyone and everything that got the brunt of Hanna, Gustav, and Ike in both the U.S. and beyond. Poor Cuba. And although I deplore the city of Houston and would never live there willingly in conscious and lucid mind, I don't wish it's citizens ill either. Let's hope hurricane season has passed, and we don't have any more of this shit to go through for awhile and can recover...
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