nota bene, mum…
- a vast variety of leg movement disorders. My favorite is the hypnic jerks. Before I die this will become the name of a really hip gang who wear leather jackets—purple, kelly green, orange—none black. The hypnic jerks, a.k.a. sleep starts preceded by the feeling of falling as you're twitching into sleeping.
- (pop tarts, ah the memories.)
- the death of Robert A. Moog. "Moog drove an aging Toyota painted with a snail, vines and a fish blowing bubbles. ‘When I drive that thing around, people smile at me,’ he said. ‘I really feel I'm enhancing the environment.’" Now that’s fantastic.
- the 85th birthday of Ray Bradbury. Paint your hair chartreuse and call yourself a Martian.
- green tea, which is good ‘n’ good for ye.
- Sufjan Stevens whom, thanks to keen friends with keen ears and a kind though possibly unfortunate fellow who sold his tickets just hours before the word Go, I witnessed in action on Saturday. A truly beautiful thing. I’m won over. My eyes are a-glaze.
- (by the way, while that’s partly in thanks to the fellow selling last-minute tickets, that’s no part in thanks to the jerk who earlier on had claimed he was going to sell his tickets and then out of highly degenerate morality bailed without a word. That Guy will not be a part of the Hypnic Jerks; he is a wholly other kind of jerk, the kind who will end up in a red basement, duct-taped to a wobbly wooden chair, where there is poison in the air.)
- when you’ve eaten only one meal for the day and the day has turned late into night, you should walk down the street and get yourself a cake to eat lest you pass out in a large and heavily breathing crowd. Dexter will demand it. Dexter will read your eyes. Dexter will know. Dexter the enormous black security guy is the Eternal Mother. Do not doubt this.
- (pop tarts, ah the memories.)
- the death of Robert A. Moog. "Moog drove an aging Toyota painted with a snail, vines and a fish blowing bubbles. ‘When I drive that thing around, people smile at me,’ he said. ‘I really feel I'm enhancing the environment.’" Now that’s fantastic.
- the 85th birthday of Ray Bradbury. Paint your hair chartreuse and call yourself a Martian.
- green tea, which is good ‘n’ good for ye.
- Sufjan Stevens whom, thanks to keen friends with keen ears and a kind though possibly unfortunate fellow who sold his tickets just hours before the word Go, I witnessed in action on Saturday. A truly beautiful thing. I’m won over. My eyes are a-glaze.
- (by the way, while that’s partly in thanks to the fellow selling last-minute tickets, that’s no part in thanks to the jerk who earlier on had claimed he was going to sell his tickets and then out of highly degenerate morality bailed without a word. That Guy will not be a part of the Hypnic Jerks; he is a wholly other kind of jerk, the kind who will end up in a red basement, duct-taped to a wobbly wooden chair, where there is poison in the air.)
- when you’ve eaten only one meal for the day and the day has turned late into night, you should walk down the street and get yourself a cake to eat lest you pass out in a large and heavily breathing crowd. Dexter will demand it. Dexter will read your eyes. Dexter will know. Dexter the enormous black security guy is the Eternal Mother. Do not doubt this.
10 Comments:
wait a minute....I'm Dexter. I'm not black.
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a different Dexter. i'll fill you in. no, you're not black.
what the fuck is up with all this spam?
I know a big black Dexter! Though I haven't seen him in quite awhile.
I must inform you that I laughed out loud at the idea of a Hypnic Jerks gang. I would not mess with those fellows. I also smiled and was quite pleased reading the description of what happens to that other, wrong type of jerk.
In the past I'd reported spammers to the Blogger folk but stopped when I realized they probably don't do anything about them.
Holy shit, I wonder if you're Dexter is my Dexter. Dexter cares.
If you know any "wrong" jerks there is now a nice end to them.
We've both been highly spammed lately. What's up with that?
I don't know where other bloggers are getting the "wavy word verification" checks for commentors, but I think I might want it.
Does your Dexter live in Hoboken?
all I know about Dexter is that he wanted me to eat a cake and that he's a security guy at Bowery Ballroom.
Hi. I really liked your site. I'll be sure to visit again.
Come visit me at Dexter the Eternal Mother's Magic Cakes Patisserie blog.
Sure to sort your life out.
Funny. And thanks. And I'm sure this will solve everything. Damnable spammers. They will be duct taped!
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