Bits and Blasts
This morning I noticed that the McDonald’s billboard in Hillsborough is advertising burritos. I don’t like their food anyway and almost never go there, but I am a proponent of integrity. What next? That’s Taco Bell’s fast food territory. Soon they will dilute their roots totally like the rest of the world and begin carrying fried rice and sashimi, tofurky and chicken parmesan, a catch-all. Be aware of the others, Ronnie, but it is not necessary to become them. I remember when I used to sit in his plastic lap.
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This morning I didn't wake up on time, not having set the alarm correctly. I did not freak out. I did not shower. I got to work 15 minutes more quickly than usual and got a parking spot I normally wouldn't have gotten at the time I got to work today. Working with the Energies reaps goods.
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I do believe I've caught the travelin’ bug. I want to visit:
1. Stone structures in Ireland
2. Redwoods in northern California
3. the Japanese countryside
in no particular order. This is also a call for a Sugar Daddy, both the candy and the fund-doler.
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Last week I bought the Elliot Smith CD: from a basement on the hill. I didn’t get into his music when he was alive, but a friend who also wasn’t into his music recommended this CD to me, and days later I stood for a long time in Wal-Mart in Effingham, Illinois (my hometown) reading a long article about him in SPIN. I bought the CD when I returned to Jersey. Maybe I was already emotional, though there was no markable reason for it: no PMS, nobody close had died, coffee had been administered with regularity. The songs on this CD spun me quick and deep into dark, poignant chaos. Had a night-long psycho-emotional breakdown in which there were no handlebars or answers. I began blogging drippedly about days past. Everybody at work was crabby. A tire blew up in my brother’s face*. The alchemy was palpable, a real Hades-trip bliss-out. "Memory Lane" is my current favorite. I played it on repeat and got it stuck in my noggin. Flood of memories, and then a flushing. The odyssey was good.
*While my brother was putting air in his car tire it blew up in his face. It caused a concussion, and blood came out his ear. There was debris in both his ears and eyes. By fate’s good winding ways he came out with good spirits and no damage to either his ear drum or the lenses of his eyes. A fact about my brother: something dramatic and/or dangerous has happened either to him, in his presence, or to someone close to him, one out of three times I talk to my mom: the tire, a friend in a nearly fatal motorcycle accident (which happened four days before the tire incident), a friend in a deadly car accident, stolen motorcycle, to name a few. (…All of these are transportation-related…) My brother is nine years younger than I am. Despite all the mess, and given on-the-spot temper tantrums, he is still the fearless, optimistic kid he’s always been. I admire that.
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How can the phrase "knuckle-friction on the sphincter walls" sound so delightful? (Regretfully, I can't claim authorship.)
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This morning I didn't wake up on time, not having set the alarm correctly. I did not freak out. I did not shower. I got to work 15 minutes more quickly than usual and got a parking spot I normally wouldn't have gotten at the time I got to work today. Working with the Energies reaps goods.
---------------------
I do believe I've caught the travelin’ bug. I want to visit:
1. Stone structures in Ireland
2. Redwoods in northern California
3. the Japanese countryside
in no particular order. This is also a call for a Sugar Daddy, both the candy and the fund-doler.
---------------------
Last week I bought the Elliot Smith CD: from a basement on the hill. I didn’t get into his music when he was alive, but a friend who also wasn’t into his music recommended this CD to me, and days later I stood for a long time in Wal-Mart in Effingham, Illinois (my hometown) reading a long article about him in SPIN. I bought the CD when I returned to Jersey. Maybe I was already emotional, though there was no markable reason for it: no PMS, nobody close had died, coffee had been administered with regularity. The songs on this CD spun me quick and deep into dark, poignant chaos. Had a night-long psycho-emotional breakdown in which there were no handlebars or answers. I began blogging drippedly about days past. Everybody at work was crabby. A tire blew up in my brother’s face*. The alchemy was palpable, a real Hades-trip bliss-out. "Memory Lane" is my current favorite. I played it on repeat and got it stuck in my noggin. Flood of memories, and then a flushing. The odyssey was good.
*While my brother was putting air in his car tire it blew up in his face. It caused a concussion, and blood came out his ear. There was debris in both his ears and eyes. By fate’s good winding ways he came out with good spirits and no damage to either his ear drum or the lenses of his eyes. A fact about my brother: something dramatic and/or dangerous has happened either to him, in his presence, or to someone close to him, one out of three times I talk to my mom: the tire, a friend in a nearly fatal motorcycle accident (which happened four days before the tire incident), a friend in a deadly car accident, stolen motorcycle, to name a few. (…All of these are transportation-related…) My brother is nine years younger than I am. Despite all the mess, and given on-the-spot temper tantrums, he is still the fearless, optimistic kid he’s always been. I admire that.
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How can the phrase "knuckle-friction on the sphincter walls" sound so delightful? (Regretfully, I can't claim authorship.)
4 Comments:
Jesus Christ! Is that about fisting?
it's cool right? i might like to borrow it for some time as well. also...you haven't tossed my hat into the fire yet have you? my noggin is cold.
So I will burn two copies of the Elliot Smith CD.
Anigans, I didn't put your hat in a fire, but it has been in the freezer with the bluejay. Sorry.
Yes, fisting. I just report the facts and figures.
i love the redwoods, you will too. Let's go.
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