what's horrifying is not the act of murder... but the fact that it isn't committed more readily. the actual act so easy. the fact that anyone, anywhere could kill another person so easily if they wanted to but they don't. societies... governments create weapons of mass destruction because all of us won't do our own small part.
- upcheck
he sat quietly at the bar "no one tells me what to do."
if you die in your dream, you die in really life- the body cannot exist without the mind-
slew was constantly dying in his dreams... dying exotic deaths...in degrees.
laughing his ass off. he'd wake up upset and unable to go back to bed.
sooo... this is death. a strike to the base of the skull with a blunt instrument separating the brain from the spinal column. the stars you see right before you black out, a million dead wishes. this is my life this is my mistake.
he swung with a wild hay maker striking the side of the neck with a clenched hand.
what are you going to do???
are you going to hit me???
kapow... kerchow...
like the batman series on television, all the punches thrown wound up to cartoonish quality.
the beginning of the end or the other way around. celery crying her eyes out. this is the future welcome to it... celery knows all of this, but can prevent none of it.
in those star trek episodes, the captain of the next generation decides to go ahead knowing whatever they decide has been preordained so the choice, ultimately has to be... to change nothing.
they sat on the corner eating broken oreos by the fistful... passive acceptance.
me: what's going on?
jay: mmmm... I'll tell you what's going on... I got to reheat my burrito.
(enter colin stage left)
colin: you kickin it out here???
jay: kevin's party is tonight they're playing darts at mulligans. you should come.
jay: avocado, rib- eye, sour cream, lettuce... sooo good.
colin: babies, root beer floats and barbecue, how can you not love me... jeez.
jay: i generate excitement
colin: can you really put a cost on living the best year of your life???
me: how can you two tool boxes not have a roommate by now???
(not verbatim... but close)
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Friday, March 16, 2007
part four or... I am starting a band called malcom x box aka the carl jung bloods
i can't finish anything, not even my life -slew
"wishes are only dreams with expired half- lives" bob said out loud. celery shouted down the hallway "and eyebrows are only little hairy sweatbands for your eyes." grabbing at a dull pink disposable razor and tugging it across her forehead taking off half her right eyebrow.
somewhere close a man has started drinking in a bar by himself. he raises a small glass full of whiskey and hate
the man exhales "here but for the grace of god we go." and drinks in and down, all the violence. he touches his swollen nose with a hand, the inside crusted with dried blood. blood tastes like copper... it's like trying to swallow a mouthful of rotting pennies. back and to the left.
the man on the bike path died a little more then two weeks later in the bathroom of his home of a massive brain hemorrhage. naked and foaming at the mouth... saggy balls and all. the fire fighter paramedics went through the motions covering his waist with a clean white sheet and drove to the hospital having already pronounced him in their minds. death be not proud.
fate... much like the word fucked... both start with the same letter.
celery knows this because i know this, she also reads the obituary pages from day old newspapers.
her parents died in a drunk driving accident. you know what they call a family of five in a minivan in accidents like that... airbags.
"everyone i ever know goes away in the end" celery sobbed pressing her head to the microwave and pushing start one night with slew. thank you trent reznor.
disappointment muck like the river denial is not just a island in the pacific... or a river in egypt.
the man at the bar will began drinking amaretto stone sours very soon, his name is upcheck. i know this because celery knows this. not the big why questions, but just the result. i know all of this before her because i am already dead. -bob
"wishes are only dreams with expired half- lives" bob said out loud. celery shouted down the hallway "and eyebrows are only little hairy sweatbands for your eyes." grabbing at a dull pink disposable razor and tugging it across her forehead taking off half her right eyebrow.
somewhere close a man has started drinking in a bar by himself. he raises a small glass full of whiskey and hate
the man exhales "here but for the grace of god we go." and drinks in and down, all the violence. he touches his swollen nose with a hand, the inside crusted with dried blood. blood tastes like copper... it's like trying to swallow a mouthful of rotting pennies. back and to the left.
the man on the bike path died a little more then two weeks later in the bathroom of his home of a massive brain hemorrhage. naked and foaming at the mouth... saggy balls and all. the fire fighter paramedics went through the motions covering his waist with a clean white sheet and drove to the hospital having already pronounced him in their minds. death be not proud.
fate... much like the word fucked... both start with the same letter.
celery knows this because i know this, she also reads the obituary pages from day old newspapers.
her parents died in a drunk driving accident. you know what they call a family of five in a minivan in accidents like that... airbags.
"everyone i ever know goes away in the end" celery sobbed pressing her head to the microwave and pushing start one night with slew. thank you trent reznor.
disappointment muck like the river denial is not just a island in the pacific... or a river in egypt.
the man at the bar will began drinking amaretto stone sours very soon, his name is upcheck. i know this because celery knows this. not the big why questions, but just the result. i know all of this before her because i am already dead. -bob
Wednesday, March 7, 2007
ask abby anyting???
dear paulette,
I have been happily married for seven years to a wonderful guy but lately I feel the romance has faded. do you have suggestions on how to spice up the love life in a languishing marriage??? sincerely, inquiring wives want to know
dear, iwwk i like to include at least three items in the bedroom when i decide it's sexy time- they include but aren't limited to the following:
-a food item
-an animal with a humorous disease
-an object
examples...
-a dented can of cream corn
-a hamster with epilepsy
-and a blue tarp
or...
-two boxes of lime green jello
-a flattened basketball
-a three legged cat with ringworm
it's a fun a game that could involve the whole family need be... the sky is the limit
I have been happily married for seven years to a wonderful guy but lately I feel the romance has faded. do you have suggestions on how to spice up the love life in a languishing marriage??? sincerely, inquiring wives want to know
dear, iwwk i like to include at least three items in the bedroom when i decide it's sexy time- they include but aren't limited to the following:
-a food item
-an animal with a humorous disease
-an object
examples...
-a dented can of cream corn
-a hamster with epilepsy
-and a blue tarp
or...
-two boxes of lime green jello
-a flattened basketball
-a three legged cat with ringworm
it's a fun a game that could involve the whole family need be... the sky is the limit
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
the depahted
he rode a pale horse and his name was death, and hell followed with him. -johnny cash
this is my life this is my mistake
celery... celery invented pets that she didn't have, only to kill them off. she would dig holes in her backyard only to fill them in later, bawling her eyes out over the freshly turned earth for a pet she never had that had never died.
when i was I don't know... fourteen, i thought I had super powers... that I could see the future. there was a path that ran along side our house, a bike path... freshly paved and i knew a man was going to die there unless I prevented it. he is going to go walking and have a heart attack and I was the only one that was that was going to able to prevent it. I was grounded at the time, but i ran out of the house anyways crying and I took my bike and went to that bike path. there was a man... and he was walking and i rode up to him on my bicycle and said hi looking anxiously into his face. i have seen death, not back then... but later, and there is a smell... it smells of amaretto and rotten fruit. the smell is unmistakable. when you smell it you know the person is gone.. twenty- one grams lighter... done. they are gone and somewhere else. he looked at me and said hello back, and riding along side him for a minute, waiting for him to drop dead i asked tentatively "no, but how do you feel?" he walked on... down the bike path after giving me a strange look.
celery and bob waited waited on the corner of the intersection tonight... again. Waiting for the accident that he was only able to prevent. bob, "slew... my name was slew." celery turned to bob wiping her ratty bangs off her forehead. "slew... hey godot, the whole donnie darko moment... blah, blah, blah..."
bob wasn't listening, watching the lights change, he stared off into space willing what was supposed to happen, to happen so they could go home. "why don't you just blow me because you're acting like my fucking girlfriend right now." bob said, wiping a wet sleeve across his runny nose.
this is my life this is my mistake
celery... celery invented pets that she didn't have, only to kill them off. she would dig holes in her backyard only to fill them in later, bawling her eyes out over the freshly turned earth for a pet she never had that had never died.
when i was I don't know... fourteen, i thought I had super powers... that I could see the future. there was a path that ran along side our house, a bike path... freshly paved and i knew a man was going to die there unless I prevented it. he is going to go walking and have a heart attack and I was the only one that was that was going to able to prevent it. I was grounded at the time, but i ran out of the house anyways crying and I took my bike and went to that bike path. there was a man... and he was walking and i rode up to him on my bicycle and said hi looking anxiously into his face. i have seen death, not back then... but later, and there is a smell... it smells of amaretto and rotten fruit. the smell is unmistakable. when you smell it you know the person is gone.. twenty- one grams lighter... done. they are gone and somewhere else. he looked at me and said hello back, and riding along side him for a minute, waiting for him to drop dead i asked tentatively "no, but how do you feel?" he walked on... down the bike path after giving me a strange look.
celery and bob waited waited on the corner of the intersection tonight... again. Waiting for the accident that he was only able to prevent. bob, "slew... my name was slew." celery turned to bob wiping her ratty bangs off her forehead. "slew... hey godot, the whole donnie darko moment... blah, blah, blah..."
bob wasn't listening, watching the lights change, he stared off into space willing what was supposed to happen, to happen so they could go home. "why don't you just blow me because you're acting like my fucking girlfriend right now." bob said, wiping a wet sleeve across his runny nose.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
part two: or thanks ang-n-oli for the inspired t-shirt
journals are the saddest sort of friends- celery
act one/: scene two
after three days without sleep you can hear voices in running water. have you ever wondered what they would say?
this is your future. welcome to it. it begins now... no wait... now, no now.
no, no, no, no, no listen...
bob swayed as he finished off a bottle of vitamins, b6.
gnashing his teeth violently. little bits of vitamin spraying every where as he spoke.
proprioception is our sixth sense. The continuous but unconscious sensory flow from the movable parts of the body: muscle, tendons, joints. Their position to me and motion are continuously monitored and adjusted by my brain. without it you become disembodied, like a freshly pithed frog.
celery chewed on the split ends of her hair. what is that from? she whispered. is this my mind? is this my mind? is this my mind?
The vitamin craze of the nineties with the health faddists overdosing on pyridoxine, poisoning themselves. a generation of power walking zombies.
your body is dead, not real... not yours
this is the rest of your life welcome to it.
celery -12 fEb 07 - This body doesn't feel like me- this doesn't feel right. The constant fucking and eating. it's so habitual you know? maybe you do. Everything is so dull, pale, so bleached. there is no beginning... no end just a long laborious middle. one of those sort of "if I was a mind reader i would know what I was thinking" sort of things. last night, bob wanted to get something to eat so we went for a walk to get some... (end part two)
act one/: scene two
after three days without sleep you can hear voices in running water. have you ever wondered what they would say?
this is your future. welcome to it. it begins now... no wait... now, no now.
no, no, no, no, no listen...
bob swayed as he finished off a bottle of vitamins, b6.
gnashing his teeth violently. little bits of vitamin spraying every where as he spoke.
proprioception is our sixth sense. The continuous but unconscious sensory flow from the movable parts of the body: muscle, tendons, joints. Their position to me and motion are continuously monitored and adjusted by my brain. without it you become disembodied, like a freshly pithed frog.
celery chewed on the split ends of her hair. what is that from? she whispered. is this my mind? is this my mind? is this my mind?
The vitamin craze of the nineties with the health faddists overdosing on pyridoxine, poisoning themselves. a generation of power walking zombies.
your body is dead, not real... not yours
this is the rest of your life welcome to it.
celery -12 fEb 07 - This body doesn't feel like me- this doesn't feel right. The constant fucking and eating. it's so habitual you know? maybe you do. Everything is so dull, pale, so bleached. there is no beginning... no end just a long laborious middle. one of those sort of "if I was a mind reader i would know what I was thinking" sort of things. last night, bob wanted to get something to eat so we went for a walk to get some... (end part two)
Friday, February 9, 2007
jay-n-liz
this is my life this is my mistake...
colin: blah blah blah
me: no no no... let me read it on your fucking blog
this is me drunk, this is me at my most honest.
jay and liz are talking girl shop in the kitchen right now...
liz: well what if she is????
jay: you should come over for a spectacular freak out... I have gained a new found love for darts... come on liz you should play darts with me
liz: I took my contacts out
jay: just aim for the big circle... come on liz you should... look at me i'm awesome two bulls-eyes
colin: blah blah blah
me: no no no... let me read it on your fucking blog
this is me drunk, this is me at my most honest.
jay and liz are talking girl shop in the kitchen right now...
liz: well what if she is????
jay: you should come over for a spectacular freak out... I have gained a new found love for darts... come on liz you should play darts with me
liz: I took my contacts out
jay: just aim for the big circle... come on liz you should... look at me i'm awesome two bulls-eyes
Sunday, February 4, 2007
crawfish etuofee, eh too fee... eh too fyeh
ken, a retired chemistry teacher from new hampshire, "is this a rave?".
"no" and I shove a bottle of beer in his hand and take a drink from mine. club brasil on frenchman street has a half a high school marching band on stage. misty, who asked me if I needed anything from the bar comes back with a cup for ken. "here drink this too." I say handing the plastic cup to ken. He does not complain and drinks both, god bless him. this is not my scene. I feel old in this place. i have an old soul. misty and andrew from the o.c. who have watched the show, i asked, are standing watching the band. They enjoy music, it's their passion and have taken ken and i around to these amazing bars with live bands. soul sucking jazz, i didn't even think I liked jazz, and then we ended up here... their favorite band is dave matthews which makes me feel quietly superior.
john wilks booth, his real name, talks about st. bernard parish. the water rose six feet in the space of a half hour. some of the fire fighters from the parish come in and talk about what happened. they were abandoned. the national guard was occupied at the super dome. people broke into the boat storage warehouse and took the boats. they rescued each other. they swam out their kitchen windows. they broke into the crawl space in their house and dragged their mother in law and sister up in there with them and then sat on the roof for four days waiting to be rescued.
Many people did not have flood insurance. the insurance company would pay to replace to the roof. one of the kids from americorp gets dysentery. we all find this funny, comical. "what is dysentery anyways?" one of the americorp kids said he felt sick and had a headache. "that's dysentery?" in the oregon trail game people were always dropping dead from that shit. you didn't have time to shoot two squirrels without little peggy sue dropping dead from dysentery. i fantasize about my own death: you guys go on without me... i'd only slow you down handing over my ryobi power drill with rechargeable battery pac... I got the... I got the dysentery.
i listen to npr on the way home. it seems to be the only radio station i can find. If I ever post a personal ad on the chicago reader i can put my radio is tuned to npr. i am interesting and intelligent... love me now. they talked about how president bush did not mention katrina or rebuilding the gulf coast and how some people were upset about his state of the union speech. by the end of the week, we have moved on to mudding. mudding is, surprised again, what i call spackle... and does not wash out of clothes. i enjoy walking around with these huge spots of mud on my jacket and jeans, like i'm out there doing things... look at me.
mike from project hope, not to be confused with camp hope which sounded ominous at first but is actually a very nice place has been here for the last seven months. first he was gutting houses and now rebuilding. he hasn't shaved since he got down here and is a hippy, his word not mine, he is working for free and is living on the kindness of the community.
everyone helps each other, it is a very blue collar neighborhood. an electrician who live down the street rewires his neighbor's house who is a carpenter, or knows something about carpentry. hopper, the carpenter, in turn, comes into this man's house and puts up braces and jacks, and raises this guy's roof to where it was before the storm surge hit. the force of the water moved brick houses down the street. this house leans awkwardly to the left. hopper begins turning the jack and the roof begins to groan. we're all underneath the center beam holding it above our heads in place. hopper pauses for a second and tells us to take a look around and plan our escape route if the roof decides to go, we laugh and then nervously look around. I reposition myself closer to the door this time and he starts cranking the jack again.
"no" and I shove a bottle of beer in his hand and take a drink from mine. club brasil on frenchman street has a half a high school marching band on stage. misty, who asked me if I needed anything from the bar comes back with a cup for ken. "here drink this too." I say handing the plastic cup to ken. He does not complain and drinks both, god bless him. this is not my scene. I feel old in this place. i have an old soul. misty and andrew from the o.c. who have watched the show, i asked, are standing watching the band. They enjoy music, it's their passion and have taken ken and i around to these amazing bars with live bands. soul sucking jazz, i didn't even think I liked jazz, and then we ended up here... their favorite band is dave matthews which makes me feel quietly superior.
john wilks booth, his real name, talks about st. bernard parish. the water rose six feet in the space of a half hour. some of the fire fighters from the parish come in and talk about what happened. they were abandoned. the national guard was occupied at the super dome. people broke into the boat storage warehouse and took the boats. they rescued each other. they swam out their kitchen windows. they broke into the crawl space in their house and dragged their mother in law and sister up in there with them and then sat on the roof for four days waiting to be rescued.
Many people did not have flood insurance. the insurance company would pay to replace to the roof. one of the kids from americorp gets dysentery. we all find this funny, comical. "what is dysentery anyways?" one of the americorp kids said he felt sick and had a headache. "that's dysentery?" in the oregon trail game people were always dropping dead from that shit. you didn't have time to shoot two squirrels without little peggy sue dropping dead from dysentery. i fantasize about my own death: you guys go on without me... i'd only slow you down handing over my ryobi power drill with rechargeable battery pac... I got the... I got the dysentery.
i listen to npr on the way home. it seems to be the only radio station i can find. If I ever post a personal ad on the chicago reader i can put my radio is tuned to npr. i am interesting and intelligent... love me now. they talked about how president bush did not mention katrina or rebuilding the gulf coast and how some people were upset about his state of the union speech. by the end of the week, we have moved on to mudding. mudding is, surprised again, what i call spackle... and does not wash out of clothes. i enjoy walking around with these huge spots of mud on my jacket and jeans, like i'm out there doing things... look at me.
mike from project hope, not to be confused with camp hope which sounded ominous at first but is actually a very nice place has been here for the last seven months. first he was gutting houses and now rebuilding. he hasn't shaved since he got down here and is a hippy, his word not mine, he is working for free and is living on the kindness of the community.
everyone helps each other, it is a very blue collar neighborhood. an electrician who live down the street rewires his neighbor's house who is a carpenter, or knows something about carpentry. hopper, the carpenter, in turn, comes into this man's house and puts up braces and jacks, and raises this guy's roof to where it was before the storm surge hit. the force of the water moved brick houses down the street. this house leans awkwardly to the left. hopper begins turning the jack and the roof begins to groan. we're all underneath the center beam holding it above our heads in place. hopper pauses for a second and tells us to take a look around and plan our escape route if the roof decides to go, we laugh and then nervously look around. I reposition myself closer to the door this time and he starts cranking the jack again.
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