When Christ said unto his apostles “This is my body, take and eat” perhaps it was just a round about way of saying “bite me, Judas.”
Convenience stores apparently sell just about everything these days.
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Billboard I saw recently: “The world doesn’t have a suggetion box.”
If it did, my first suggestion would be to institue corporal punishment for people who compose trite billboard slogans.
Thought for the day: Are eternal penitents housed in eternal penitentiaries?
Prompts a series of bad quaotational puns aka “filk filk.”
Such as the following:
“Why can’t I get just one filk, why can’t I get just one filk, guess it’s got something to do with luck…”
“Why don’t you take a flying filk at a rolling donut? Why don’t you just take a flying filk at the mooooon?”
Till then,
I’ve a lovely Cthulhu Beatles parody up my sleeve for later and a bag of ice to purchase.
So you can all just filk off already.
Next major Silver Sea event to my knowledge will be Club Crawl. I’m in the process of recruiting some talent, god willing…
Just watched “Rescue Me” with Denis Leary. Not at my own house, though, cause I don’t have cable and it’s on FX. Maybe I’ll get cable again. It was deep and satiric and sad and dark and true. It was black comedy edged with tragic seriousness in the vein of Kurt Vonnegut or Douglas Coupland. And plus I kind of think Denis Leary is hot. Er, rather, Denis Leary is still hot, even though he’s getting up there a bit. But we all know about me and those aging Irish guys…
Narcissistic vampires who wound themselves, then lick the blood…
Still awaiting word from the outside world,but no one listens, there is not a soul around to hear…I am all you never wanted…there are rainbows, one god’s promise that never was broken…rain like a weeping baptism, drenching my desert soul, I am a lizard shedding skins, I am a fallen saguaro riddled with bullet holes and the rodent burrowing inside it…drown me in a desert flood and let me die with some irony at least…I envy friends who say they want to die, I wish I wanted to die, life would be so much easier to take if I didn’t have to love it back…
She is
blood black cherries in July
sticky and red and bitter pitted
abundant and bruised and green at the stem
too much sweetness in the swelter
she needs drying in the desert sun
or to be frozen
till winter comes
I don’t want to be loved
I just want someone to suck the poison out
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Eight of Swords (Interference): Chagrin at the unforeseen consequences of prior decisions. Criticism, censure, and the imposition of external restrictions. Confusion leading to powerlessness. Inability to focus on the crux of a problem and free oneself from a difficult situation. Being hamstrung by a past failure or humiliation.
The Fool: Fearlessness, imagination, open-mindedness, and an adventurous spirit. Freedom from cares and worries. Ideas, thoughts, and impulses coming from a completely unexpected place. Nonchalance at the threshold of gaining all or losing all. Extravagance and intoxication with life. The pure and undifferentiated power of creation itself, where ultimate knowledge and oblivion are unified.
Typing in yet another series of product descriptions into yet another Microsoft program, I zen out and lose all context of what I’m typing as usual. For all intents and purposes I am just a monkey with a typewriter. But every once in a while this trancelike state causes me to look at things in unusual ways and the most benign things strike me as being hysterically funny. For instance, I type in “50 elastic hair bands” and suddenly picture a stage full of competing 80′s hair metal bands dressed in lycra, crowded onto a stage and collapse into a fit of giggles. I suspect everyone here must think I’m a tad off my rocker. Not that there’s anything wrong with that…Oh well, back to the grind.
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