I got my rollerblade cyotes today! (got ’em on ebay for $60)
untitled [today is a dust mop afternoon]
today is a dust mop afternoon
my delicious morals are degrading by design
my hair is standing on end and inside out
my stomach is turning summersaults
from too little water, and too much sugar
I’ve been reading about fucking hearts and babies born on the internet.
My desert-island, all-time, top-five most
My desert-island, all-time, top-five most memorable breakups a la Nick Hornby, in chronological order:
- Kaia
- Emily Mohowald
- Megan Opp
- Kate Christensen
- Annie Baril
I don’t know whether Kaia or Emily Mohowald deserve to be on the list. I don’t really even know if that’s how you spell Kaia’s name. It’s pronounced like kayak but without the last k, and with an ‘a’ at the end. Anyway, she was the first person I’d ever slept with, and there’s a nice funny story to go along with it–one that I’ll spare you, for now. I spent months afterward hoping to see her downtown. Run into her at a show, or a coffee shop. When I finally did, she ignored me, and pretended she didn’t know who I was. Hell, maybe she didn’t know who I was. We were drunk and stoned. The lights were off…
Emily I broke up with. Actually, that goes for at least three, maybe four out of the five above. I don’t know, I guess I regret the most the relationships I know I could have held on to. With emily, it was a lot like Hornby’s second relationship. I just wanted to feel her breasts. Only, with her, I got to. We spent this totally memorable day at home, “sick” from school, at her house, and I remember taking a bath with her, then making out for hours on her futon. I told myself I was in love with this other girl, a girl I knew better from my school, and one who I considered more up to par in the intelligence department. Truth is, I didn’t know Emily at all. She could have been einstein for all I knew. I also talk about how she told me after our day home from school together that I was the first person she’d ever fucked around with. And I didn’t want to be her first. I was scared to death of taking her verginity, and I knew she wanted me to.
There are a couple of people who didn’t make the list who probably should have. Lia, and probably Heidi. Strangely, they’re both of them girls I now despise. OK, I don’t despise Heidi. I don’t want to talk about her, or to her, or around her. Maybe it’s too soon. She was only a year ago. Lia I don’t even want to think about, I still see her occasionally around town, and she always walks by with her nose pointed in the air like she’s obviously far too good to talk to me. Heh.
I’ve started reading High Fidelity to Laura. She’d never heard of it, never seen the movie. It’s so good, every other paragraph or so makes me tingle.
I’ve also been reading my old journal far too often recently. The document (which I’ve relatively recently converted to a largish 350k text file) is really fascinating. I wish I’d written in it more often at times, and yet there is so much! Every third or fourth entry reminds me of some forgotten moment, some element of my past so powerful, so crystal, that bringing it to mind causes all kinds of emotional knee jerks.
I’ve been surfing for web
I’ve been surfing for web community links all day. I wanted to include a blog link or two, but I realized that blog communities are really weird. It seems like they’re all super specialized small intense bursts of social activity. This versus a site like Mac Fix It or something where they have hundreds upon hundreds of users that show up every day or so, log in, and help other people.
Web communities are the bomb.
oh yeah, check out my
oh yeah, check out my sister (second from the right) on the cover of last sunday’s Star Tribune.
I find ordinary fiction relatively
I find ordinary fiction relatively boring. That is, unless it brings something else to the table. Probably the most common “other” thing a book can bring to me is beautiful prose. Poetic prose even. The one I’m reading now does this well. It’s funny even. Funny is good too.
When I write, I should think about this issue more. Not when I write here. That’s not what I mean. This is more of a journal really. I mean when I write stories and stuff. When I write boring prose, it should be poetic. Or funny. It can be funny too.
I’d rather write science fiction.
Last friday I saw William Shatner right here in Minnesota. He was promoting the release of his movie (he directed and starred it in) called “Shoot or be shot.” I didn’t see the movie, in fact, we didn’t even know he was going to be there. It was weird. He seems nice. He’s short. I didn’t shake hands with him or anything, just watched from 10 feet for a few minutes.
it has just struck me
it has just struck me as extremely unlikely that anything as sophisticated as a CD player would ever get invented. I am amazed. Dumbstruck even. How is it possible? How is this awe possible? Am I crazy? Is it really amazing, or what?
The wonders of modern technology.
caviar on crackerjacks. I’m inflated
caviar on crackerjacks.
I’m inflated and frozen today. Work is a steaming pile of horse dongle, complete with tapeworms.
Now I will go juggle until my arms are sore and my legs numb from bending to pick up clubs. DAMNIT! I forgot a t-shirt today. I’ll be juggling bare-chested. I’m so hot.
untitled [ugh. I’m a lizard in sunlight]
ugh. I’m a lizard in sunlight
dreaming about crack cocaine and mescaline
robe hanging off my shoulder
tying knots in my brain with video games
playing chopsticks on the player piano
we’re fermented and moldy
green fuzz on my skin–alcohol content 98%
out to lunch
burp
well, I haven’t had a
well, I haven’t had a googlewhacking post yet, mostly because I haven’t had anything really exciting to post. Now a friend of mine here at work has got 166,110,000,000 points, with the two words
u n u n h e x i u m & j o n e s.
Hehe.
It doesn’t beat out some of the best scores over at JOHO, but it’s still pretty damn good.
My personal best was
p u s s y & t h y r o t r o p i n
with 29,440,000,000.
It’s fun as hell, and I’m not getting any work done today. :P