Monthly Archives: January 2012

…ALONE IN MY WORLD…

[Response to: Kill…]

Daydreaming

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…BLUEBIRDS ON ACID…

[Response to: You are so…]

KILL


…LET IT…

[Response to: GAUNTLET, IM RDY]

you are so very beautiful. I would like to hold you


…GAUNTLET, IM RDY…

[Response to: bzzzzz: Radio…]

Soda Pop, POP, POP
Female, Femininity, Feminism
Scratched out records, PIXIES
Dropped Drop, Click Brown
Fallen Out, Falling 10 stories down through a glass window, OH MY OH MY OH MY OH MY OH DAD
Cracked out, take a hit, want to flip, flip, flip
Free Willy, Home Alone
Role Models, Lost World
burned in the brain, to the membrane, gone insane, take a train, fly a plan
Master Chief be Insane, the horror the horror the horror OH sister
Flat Line, Flat Spine, Crushed
————–<———————–
o=;'pppp


…TUNAFISH…

[Response to: From time to time…]

bzzzzz: Radio Aruba, Jamaica ooo I wanna take ya Bermuda, Bahama come on pretty mama Key Largo

Shelly’s beach adventures were manifesting into the dreams of hermit crabs. The unbearable heat stroke she had acquired on a day to day basis had slowly transformed her brain, or perhaps it was the peyote that she had sprinkled in her coffee that fateful october morning.

Shelly sweltered out on the beach, until her body mutated into a beached manatee. Lucky for her the tide came in 17 minutes and 34 seconds later.

The feeling of being brought back to the water, reminded Shelly of birth, or what her imagination of birth could conjure up through her peyote heat stroke infused manatee mind. Shelly was always more of a worker bee. She wondered if being a manatee would bring further insanity, for what is a life floating in water all day.

If she had only purchased that Ipod nano 3 years earlier then she would at least be able to float around to music, but alas, it was not in the cards.

BLUE


…ONE DAY, AT 4:36PM…

[Response to: One day while gazing at moonbushes…]

01/05/1978

From time to time I find my thoughts drifting to that moment in the waiting room where I sparked a conversation with a peculiar man in a plaid shirt.

His name was Steve and he flew crop dusting planes for a living. Steve was an admirer of fonts on sex cam websites. Once upon a time Steve was in college and working on his thesis based strictly on how fonts on pornographic websites were specifically designed to arouse men, and if the font was extraordinarily successful could lead to the spending of 2-4 cents per character.

I found this amusing due to my interest in subliminal advertising, although I truly though that Steve was a madman. I wondered if my attraction to Steve was increased due to his insanity, it certainly made him a more compelling individual.

Steve was one of those men that would share the meaning of life with you because you decided to give him the time of day. That day, I gave that time. You have to wonder if Steve self recognizes this quality, perhaps he knew that I needed someone to show me the path that day.

Steve, “There is a cornfield in Martinsdale, Montana. Inside the field you will find a single Ponderosa Pine Tree. Place your ear to the side of the tree, take a deep breath, and the Pine Tree will take a breath in response. As you exhale the Ponderosa will share a secret with you.”

I wanted to ask Steve what the Ponderosa has told him, yet at that exact moment Steve was called into the Otolaryngologist office. Steve peered over me while rising from his seat. At that moment he saw right through me. He read my mind.

Steve came up and whispered in my ear, “If “Big Ass” is at 36 fonts it increases the chance that a teenage male will spend money on a pornographic website by 38X”

That was the last time I saw Steve.


…WE’LL BE RICH IN THE NEXT CENTURY…

[Response to: BAM!!! The New Year, so much to fear]

One day while gazing at moonbushes, my attorney ringed me on the jellyfone.

“As your attorney, I advise you not to miffle, and please parsellate the torquat.”

My attorney rarely makes sense yet charges an arm and a leg for services rendered. I would never have learned the definitions of words like rendered if it wasn’t for my attorney.

My attorney has a killer instinct.
Kill! Kill! BAM!

My attorney also reads books.

I cannot trust my attorney because my attorney is not my friend. My attorney is my lover.

I’m tired of hearing, “As your attorney, I advise you to pick up some groceries.” I find it violently unprofessional.