Sunday, January 28, 2007
Cleaning Up
From chaos springs order! Out of entropy - tidiness!My room has been organized. As I slipped from my bunk this morning, it, like the beginnings of yogurt, was an uncultured mess. Though hardly bereft of charm, and not without pathos, this unsightly mess was nevertheless doomed to extinction. By this evening, all nonsense was subtracted. My stepmother marveled at the expurgated version of my room. Not one item is out of place - except for one curiously malapropic vestige: a tablespoon???
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Whoops! While I was cleaning the keyboard, the K key rocketed off into infinity! I have since returned it to its proper place on the keyboard. Right next to J and L!
Well, now that everything's all tidy, I'm going to start enjoying my life. See you when the fun expires!
MYW at 5:23 PM
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Before Breakfast Blogging
Tabula Rasa, Baby! All the snow melted beneath the blazing sun yesterday as my father turned 54. We celebrated and pops got some pretty good gifts. He is the cornerstone of the family unit, the closest to God, Akhenaten, our benevolent dictator. He can cook a mean pork roast, too.Tuesday had me tripping - over the assorted inanity littered about my floor. My foot got caught on a cable and I did damage to my laptop. It's enjoying time off in a North Carolina warehouse as we speak, and I'm reduced to writing on an old HP I copped from a dude in west Urbana, who, to my dismay, had outfitted his computer with hundreds of hours of granny porn and alterna-rock nonsense. "Good Riddance," indeed!
On a related note, Happy Birthday Mozart!
MYW at 9:22 AM
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Pimp Slap your Bookbag!?
My karma reimbursed, I fear I've been cursed! My lack of focus has taken its toll on my change purse. Honestly, though, it's my fault, but I'm looking to hurl the blame at someone else. Fate gets the rap - he nevers seems to argue.I got a Handel on some new music books, which is dope. Spending money is addictive, false slack to be sure. Cash or credit, I'm not sure which gives more glee, but the force is there in both cases. I personally prefer floppy plastic - it means I have nothing to lose at gunpoint. Regardless, if I don't slow down, I'll doubtless run out soon. But if I do, I can take comfort in the fact that it wasn't because 007ihost.com charged me too much for my website.
I know why I never learn. I have a condition, man. I need the juice; I crave the stimulus. It's obvious: I came out of diapers too late, weaned too early. My mother didn't love me as a child. She didn't tickle me enough. There I sat in my cradle, begging for giggles. I asked the doctor what he thought about the situation. He's not privy to all our activities, but he has a keen pair of peepers. So we'll find out in a fortnight.
MYW at 8:17 PM
Monday, January 22, 2007
Power To Chant
I had a hunch:Beans and eggs in a bunch,
I'd proceed to munch
On my symmetrical lunch
Incomprehensible? LOOK. Don't ever second guess me.
I've been tripping on caffeine all week. You'd think I'd be a busy bee, a proliferator of prose and other things. Frankly, it doesn't really enhance my performance - stimulants bungle my natural mojo. High on caffeine, I could sniff out a farting mole, but tasks of perspicacity prove elusive.
Unlike my moustache, this knowledge is nothing new. Yet I still find myself partaking of the compound often. Why? Certain lessons require repeated infraction to fully absorb. That's what life is all about, isn't it? I guess you can't blame nuns for avoiding the process - they are simply ignorant. But among the rest of the race, there are those that never learn. What happens to them? Find out next week!
MYW at 1:59 PM
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Trappings
Well, I escaped humanity. It’s just me and the cat now. I thought Elsket a misnomer; I have since rechristened him Man Face. It stuck; the other day, during lunch, he brought me a bird. I had a salad instead. We both laughed.Under his dander face, I promptly underwent a prodigious histamine dump which no known remedy seems able to subdue. My overworked immune system has told me to be torpid. Like a good Muslim, I hear and I obey. May high-breasted virgins await me in heaven.
Ho-hum. I have to say I was getting used to all the bizarros before I went and cut off all my hair. Our worlds intersected and now reality is a mystery. Whose world do I live in? What is happening there? The only certainty: that garbage can was full of fine wig material.
So often a blog post is something of a solace, a familiar activity to punctuate the abstruse wandering of reality. Every so often, you’ve got to let those thoughts ooze through your fingers, and see how they look. You’ve got make room in your head for more. It starts to hurt if you don’t.
MYW at 1:27 PM