Wednesday, June 22, 2005

My dream last nite, it’s right at the tip of my tongue, or, finger, hmmm, that’s an interesting relation I hadn’t thought of up to this point, the similarities in one vein and then also the other, ooh, and there we go again. I’m learning as we speak, right now, to type without my left pinkie. Pinkie. Shit, 3rd strike and yer out? Thankfully not. Yup. It’s fairly easy to cut out the pinkie, just a little slower, and, strangely the lack of speed may be causing me to ponder my words more.

Shit. Back to the dream. Scary ones last night. And I was gonna get up & write it down and was too lazy, and I remember thinking about it & thinking, eh, it’s really not that great of an idea, like many dreams, they sound much more interesting and intense when you’re in the dream, the moment, than if you write it down and see it later. Dammit. I can’t remember. Something to do with death, with a strange way to arrange death. Fuck, it’s right there. It was freaky, and I remember never having heard of it being done before. Ok bandaid off, it was holding me back.

Think dammitt. Think. You just remembered that it actually occurred in your mind, that’s step one. Ok, I’mm keep cleaning up this crap & see if it comes to me. You know how that works. Fuck! It was good. I think. Some kind of arranged arcane death club type shit. Dammitt.

Sigh. Still nothing. It was cosmic shit too. That’ll teach me. Put a goddamm fucking pen and pad by the goddamm side of the bed, doctor pile. That’s me, doctor mofoing pile. I’m not even worthy to hump your leg, let alone sniff your terrier’s patootie. I make myself sick.

Eh. What can ya do? It really grinds my gears though. Something about restriction, on a dark plain, with vampire like monsters? But there was something unique about it, something that when I woke up I was like, well, I already told you that.

I really must avoid the PS2 tonite, as just yesterday I acquired from an associate’s storage facilities, with his blessing and in his company, of course, four games, one of which grand theft auto san andreas, which is basically the digital version of crack. No. I must write. I will write. And clean house. But write. Sit down at the machine and get crackin. Cuz aunt gertle ain’t gonna come in and churn that butter herself, I gotta put the pedal to the metal and get those words down. Because, um, it matters? Yah.

Well, once again, you’re welcome. For granting you the privilege of reading this fascinating horseshit. My houseguest read the first couple pages of my dogshit acre and said I’m a young jack kerouac. At first I thought it was cuz I was doing the dishes at the moment. And then I realized, and thought, eh, he’s kissing my ass. Thus I will never be able to take a compliment. So please hurtle some insults my way. Yes, this is the most interesting treatise you’ve encountered since discovering and reading all about that incredibly fascinating memo about how george bush junior was planning on going into iraq all along, way before the whole wmd dillio. No way! Jeez. Who’du thunk it? That’s like, discovering, um, I dunno, that a skunk will squirt smelly shit on you. It’s just, like, the biggest scoop since the 32nd flavor. Sigh. Yes. Au vois.

Oh yah I wrote a review of a kool keith dvd. Check it out. Yes I’m a corporate screwhead. Peace.