Friday, March 31, 2006
Howdy. Irrelevance reigns as the sky pours. Beer is good. Writing shit down is invaluable for record keeping and the tracks of time not withering said unspoken words into the dust of the incinerator of history. Or something like that.
I’ve rarely felt this powerful and this useless at the same time. In so many sections of my quadrant, whatever the fuck that means. Useless sentences are my mask from reality, both for you & myself. Steering the wheel of a vast ship, pondering significances, while paradoxically never doubting. Maybe only in the middle of the night when I wake up and stare at that ceiling, counting the nonexistent pixels of drywall. Which I don’t. if you know what the fuck any of this balderdash means send me a telegram, attention jurk storr. I won't get it. It's the thought that counts.
Feh. Anyway. Oh yeah, it’s raymi’s birthday. Go tell her she’s the best at what she does and what she does is fill in the blank. Canadian not so pseudo celebrity, if apparencies can be trusted. One of the few bloggers to successfully match wits & swords with that pringles backup dancer. check your local listings for further updates. The future will be now when vogue cover models are wearing helmets made of frozen german beer and pop divas do the polka while listening to ultramagnetic tracks dubbed over liberace chords.
I have to start working on my horror movie screen play. I think the idea is solid. It’s a story about a boy and his dog, except the boy is all grown up and the dog is dead. And the boy, now a man, is pissed, and his dad didn’t help matters. Oh and there’s this other dude that kills everyone. And the beach. And William Randolph Hearst’s house as a backdrop for a dangerous game of cat and mouse. Except the cat is like this guy that drives a tractor that’s possessed by the devil. Except there are no tractors in this story.