Friday, January 13, 2006

There’s a lot of shit I just don’t get, a lot of shit I just can’t read, a lot of shit I just can’t watch, digest, handle as it soaks into my brain and trickles down to my testicles. You get the drift. Or not. Likely the latter. This is prolly one of those things for yah. Or not. I guess if you’ve made it this far it ain’t. and I guess I should appreciate that? I’m really beyond caring, at least for the moment, gimme a few hours minutes days and we’ll renegotiate. I just know that I have to get back to writing useless horsecrap or else my cranium will explode. Please excuse, or not, the fashion of which I expostulate, it will be what that guy called something I can’t remember, something about how I should just come out & say shit, rather than wandering around the maypole and stringing out dignitaries with promises of pertinent info? Yeah, I’mma keep doing that. It’s all I am, it’s all I know, it’s the air I breathe, non meant ‘poligies in advance, guvnah. You see, I gots shit on my mind, like that guy from the geto boys or whoever the hell it was, and this is the place it goes, but I don’t want you necessarily to know what’s on my mind, cuz then that would be telling, so the challenge in my quadrant, and it ain’t much of one to tell you the truth cuz I’m so used to it by now, is to bang on the drum and watch words appear on the screen until I feel like I’ve somehow turned a corner in my thought processes. Whether or not someone reading this can actually make any sense of it is entirely secondary if not thirdary. I hope that clears things up. I still can’t remember the word of which I and that other dude got on opposite ends of some really not that heartfelt huff about, but whatevs, I mean, yes, there are things going on, and yes I’d love to tell you all about it, but I wouldn’t, and the latter beats out the former 40 to love. It’s just the way it is. Yeah I could start up some secret alter ego on the net and then tell all the juicy details about how greggie and suzie went up to the top of the mountain and spiked grandma’s porridge, but what’s the fun in that, this is established, this is done, and anybody can type up a yay or sob story and then have everyone go “congratulations!” or “you poor dear,” and I’m just not into doing that, at least not now, and, well, yeah, so in the news tonite, did anyone hear about that pitbull getting attacked by that cat? At first I thought it was that Puerto Rican rapper guy, but now I’m pretty sure it’s not. Hope all’s well in your neck. Yeah, I know, I said that already like months ago, I’m thinking of making it like my tagline, ya know, like, elroy was here, but that other name, gundar? Nah that ain’t it. Anyway, yeah, hope all is well in your neck. Rub some ointment or something on that shit, last thing you wanna do is get a rash and attract the bees from down in the valley, they’ll eat ya alive. Ok, this has gotten stupid and ridiculous and should have been stopped way earlier. I felt like I was on some kind of roll. Yeah, I know, thinking is for the scholarly, if I was gonna think I should be in a library knee deep into a book about wizards and warlocks and the things that they do and the movies they watch. Yup, I know.

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

Hi. Sigh. The phone won’t stop ringing. That’s really neither here nor there. Wow. You wouldn’t believe what’s been goin down the last few days. The highs. The lows. The ambient temperatures. The newly discovered places, both inside & out. The mental elevations and depressions, the dumbwaiter of Solomon going to the top to the bottom from the left to the right, the boogie woogie suddenly turning into the boogie man and then into the sweetest face and most refreshing feeling of peace that you ever knew or even considered knowing. Yup, life’s a fucking trip. Deep, man, deep. Atlantis called, it needs its trident back. Lil’ walter’s finger is havin probs with that dyke, and I don’t mean the one that woks on 2 legs, I mean the damm damn, and he’s trying to keep the flood at bay, but Neptune had this long spear like thingey that somebody named some gum after, and it had three pointy ends and lil’ walter’s down to standing on one leg and if anything else comes up he’ll have to either get horny or tell a lie and have another appendage to keep back the forces of iniquity and cursed empty souled individuals, perpetuating standardized behavior because that’s the way it’s always been “done” and horrors horrifying for the flag of tradition, meanwhile lakes of fire are sorely in need of a kierkegaardian ambassador who believes in even the smallest thing or concept or ideal beyond what is easy & what is safe and what is the localized anesthetic of the moment to this life in which we’ve been plopped so unceremoniously.