refraining from bitching and moaning.
also from hitting this damned website. i must have clicked through here over a thousand times yesterday while procrastinating instead of doing these @%$!#$@ reports.
also been getting lots of fucked up messages from fucked up people in fucked up places.

welcome to the land of the lost.

finding that education is the realization of how much you have been manipulated and predetermined in ideas and even scope of imagination.

so relieved that Swine finally refrained from bitching and moaning. I don't know much longer I could take it.

But now that he's stopped, whew, do I feel better.

Just knowing that Swine will never again bitch or moan....think of the possibilities.

What exactly is it that you will be doing in the future, Mr. Swine, now that you have all that time on your hands?

detecting a whiff of sarcasm in the air.
ah, sarcasm, how would we ever exist without it...
unimaginable...
maybe after giving up bitching and moaning, we could all collectively give up sarcasm.
just for a day. just to see how it feels. If our stomachs feel better, our lungs clearer, our blood pressure closer to normal...
nah...


leaving

collecting old 16mm porno.

i've decided this is my calling.

i recently bought the projector. or maybe i broke into a school while drunk.

you never know. i'll consult my accountant.

if you have 16mm films you want to sell, drop me a line.

[email protected]

well, sheila...
i've been thinking about quitting my job, driving across country, and hanging out in the mountains of northern california where i'll pursue a career as a stalker of feisty old redheaded women.
y'know... like a Cain-meets-John Wayne Gacy kinda thang...
maybe i'll write a book.
"Zen in the Art of Sociopathic Behavior"

now all i need are a few clown suits and some brand new mantras and i'll be ready to go...

got any pie left in the fridge?

There is always pie in the fridge. But not everything is Blue Dick and Buttercups at the olde farmstead. One of the young ganders cracked his beak and I had to bring him in to treat it, not knowing at the time what was wrong, just that he was covered with blood. He is fine now, but the shower will never be the same. He bled out a lot, I mean a lot, all the time swinging his neck in all directions with the bloody gushing beak at the end. The good news is that once I caught him he didn't snap at me; probably only because his beak already hurt, I hadn't thought of that.

Anyway, this is a good time to be here if you have any interest in horse cock or wildflowers. Everywhere you look.

Yesterday I went on a site inspection with the Planner for this nearby little quaint town, and we were doing an informal charette, looking at the streetscape, etc. We somehow ended up on the second floor of an haunted hotel that has been refurbished quite nicely, taking a tour with the bartender/docent. She kept asking if we were locals, and other questions, and he kind of lied and didn't tell her we were from the Community Development Department. So I said I was just visiting my son and grandchildren and he was showing me around town. This is a guy I met when I started work there, a few weeks ago. He's a smartass, and really loud, and knows nothing about me until this impulsive moment when I surprised him. I told everyone back at the office, and now he has to come up with something to save face. I can hardly wait until staff meeting Friday.

No matter what they do to me, EHF is there as a last resort.

This a.m. Martha Stewart did Margaritas, her way. Sauza Commemorativo and I think she grew the limes herself. I know she made the glasses, and mined the salt but she had to shop for that blue stuff that she put in the Margarita made especially for the beach. Martha a Parrott Head, who would have thought?

suddenly coaching TWO baseball teams. Same uniform, different age group.

baffled that R.C. thinks AOL's browser is better than Nutscrape. I mean, I never EVER use AOL's browser. It takes too fucking long to do ANYTHING.

But, to each is own I guess.

[email protected]

buhluhuhnted.

really tired and getting a sore throat

I woke up with a sore throat, too. On the drive into work I kept looking at my tonsils in the rearview to gauge whether I was ready to go make the MDs cough up the Rx yet.
Yesterday I played softball on the company team. I humiliated myself by tripping rounding 3rd and the runner on my heels had to look around and decide whether to wait for me to get up or go back to 3rd. He went back to 3rd. By the time I righted myself the catched was standing in front of me with the ball. I thought "well, shit" and ran full force into him hoping to shake the ball loose because if he didn't have control it doesn't count as an out. He was a brick wall. I had just dusted myself off from pitching over face forward, this time I was knocked on my ass. And something's wrong with my elbow, but it's fairly undelineated, so I'm going to wait and see how it pans out, since I'm on vacation next week anyway.

[email protected]

Note: NEVER record an album and finish your thesis at the same time.
Unless you're a masochist who likes being sleepy all the time.

[email protected]

looking at a special somebody's pertinent information and thinking about using it to do evil.

really, i should be too busy to be joining the the dark side today... but somehow i can't stop embracing procrastination. clicked through the face server, went downstairs to hang out with the door-guy, resolved a bunch of minor emergencies... but still haven't tackled the Big Ugly.

the first Big Ugly is due tomorrow by 5:00PM Chicago time. the Little Big Ugly at 5:00PM Seattle time. so what am i doing?

thinking about taking a stroll by the seaport...

this is like college all over again.

Wishing that summer sausage was in season.
Nate
I love you.

through wrestling computers for the day. Now I have to go wrestle a mixer and DAT machine for the night. Our singer emailed me and informed us she has cancer. She didn't elaborate so we don't have the slightest idea what the extent is. She's supposed to be back tomorrow, so I guess I'll find out then. Poor girl, she's only 20.

[email protected]

Elaborating on my own wisdom by disowning a charity I established in 1984.
I hope someday that stumps will be able to regenerate, but until that day I am not going to listen to one-legged whiners. Stop bawlin' mommy doesn't give a shit anymore.

P.s. I still love Nate.

Sem -- the vocal chord nodules she went to have removed were cancerous? Holy cripes! That's fucked. My heart goes out to both of you... There are probably worse things than getting cancer at 20/but I sure as hell can't think of any.

Remembering. This is very unusual for TBone. Mind like a very old, rusted, and completely useless trap.

Anyhow, TBone is remembering strange things like learning to read. Actually, he doesn't remember learning to read. He remembers suddenly being able to read where previously he was unable. Relatives back this up. Suddenly little TBone, while riding in the back seat of the Subaru said, "I can read." TBone began to read the road signs more or less accurately. This was not too long after his teacher began teaching him how the letters made words.

Very strange. Always loved to read, TBone did.

Especially signs.

[email protected]
http://marvin.smoothness.org

intrigued by this site:

http://www.captivated.com/carson/

Very cool.

[email protected]

back after being away. not really away. just preoccupied. ...it's been almost two weeks since my friend had two of her major organs replaced, having been right on the edge of that precipice. while we try to cope with that from the outside she's trying to cope on the inside. they only woke her up a couple of days ago, which must be a bit rip van winkle, and everyday is another tiny step forward, with a little slip backwards. this is going to take so long, and i don't even know when we'll be allowed to see her next, just to hold her hand and tell her to get better faster. i'm sitting here at work trying not to think about it, welling up every now and then because i don't really have anything to say about it. there are just the facts and the feelings, but every now and then i get so full i have to tell someone. selah.

yesterday i saw the manhattan skyline through a dull grey mist from a tiny jet window and realized that it is so foreign to me that i have to take the chance and ask about a transfer. i'm not much one for security.

[email protected]
http://www.9flights.com

I just caught a stranger in my toolshed. He was rifling through an old file cabinet. I surprised him by shouting "hello there".
He got a bemused look on his face, told me to "suck his cock" and bolted out of there. If only he would have hung around to see my response to his statement. This little escapade could have ended up in Penthouse Letters.
Dare to dream...

I just caught a stranger in my toolshed. He was rifling through an old file cabinet. I surprised him by shouting "hello there".
He got a bemused look on his face, told me to "suck his cock" and bolted out of there. If only he would have hung around to see my response to his statement. This little escapade could have ended up in Penthouse Letters.
Dare to dream...

Stayed up all night mixing our album. SOunds real good, but I'll have to wait and see how it sounds in teh car, the crap boombox and the nice stereo. Hopefully will be able to do that tonight.

The guy who recorded us wants to put a couple of the best mixs up at mixmaster.com, I'll keep folks posted on when that will happen.

tired as hell.

[email protected]

playing with many new toys.

My neighbor the outfitter had a huge yard sale.

rather tired of seeing this nick person's messages in the boards advertising himself. Not my type.

[email protected]
http://marvin.smoothness.org

POTATO
Bides of Joy
Fill this House
And fill the
Days for this
Poor louse
Beer and tube
Make good friends
Chocolate Chip Cookie
Dough now and then
The blinds stay closed
And the day goes by
As I nap and wake
With no care for time
The weekend ends and now..My Friends
I work for 5 days to begin again.

needing sleep, but happy for her version of existence.

submitting to inertia.
being a workaholic by day and a microbrewaholic by night.
pondering the etymology of "schism"
always loved that word.
that and "synchronicity"

Synchro City.

remembering drinking my first beer when i was 13... then stealing 6's of molson export from the back porch... then focusing attention on the school up on the hill. spent ninth and tenth grades stealing kegs from frats on the hill. made a profit by selling them to my fellow townies by the river. premium prices to the fuckers, and free swill "to all my friends".
everyone got beer one way or another.

squirrel had the truck. lev and rham had the thirst. i had the plan. sigma phi epsilon were the suckas with the product, and we'd take all they had with impunity.
the grand heist of their spring formal was our crowning moment. 12 kegs jacked from the backdoor by the alley. we felt like heroes, legends.
it was a pure, simple, beautiful time. breaking the law, stealing from the rich, fighting for life and fucking for fun.

you can't ever get that back.

there's nothing out there that can give you the feeling of being 15 and doing shit that you know full well will get you in unimaginable worlds of hurt if you get caught.

boy to man is all tedious manuevering and compromise.
"consequence is no coincidence."
learn the full meaning of that and you've crossed the line.

sometimes, when i'm deciding not to know any better, i wish i were 15 again.

I broke up with my boyfriend a week ago but who decided to call me at 8:30 this mornoing and wake me up???!!! My ex! thats ok though he is a sweet guy i am stil wondering why i broke it off! Ha! guess i'll never know.
~Maddie

[email protected]

i'm going to spend the day outside, catching up with the gardening, mowing, drainage projects, animal grooming, and thinking about what Swine just said about being 15. Probably think about that all day, and be happy doing it. Fifteen. Yesss.
VODKA was already my drug of choice, the supply was unlimited, I had a brand new Austin-Healey 3000Mk II, and my hair had not yet turned red, it was still blonde. What a summer. Just remembering it kind of makes up for a lot of other stuff. Thanks, Swine.

trying not to remember 15.

"Happiness is Good" seems like one of those obvious, instinctual things, but I think it has to be learned. At 15, I avoided it, feared it, and embraces misery. Maybe because I didn't have a drug. Well, other than ludicrous amounts of caffeine, but that has its limits.

[email protected]
http://marvin.smoothness.org

looking.

oh, Mark's back, good. much more fun to watch than a glowing tv screen.

oh, he's looking right at me like he saw me looking at him

oh, he just left.

this is a trick, right?

Remembering all the times I compulsively urinated in swimming pools. Just stopped doing it a couple of years ago, but I have the urge to begin again this summer. Those instant warm jets of liquid-love gushing from my hairy adolescent thighs. If you go for a dip in a public pool this summer I would beware of me. The man with the pungent pee.
Summer never tasted so sweet.

just generally pissed off. I decided to do some heavy duty software revamping yesterday... It didn't work, but that's to be expected with this kernel crap anymore...
What pissed me off is that sometime during this process, my cute little pcmcia ethernet card passed on. Toast. Poof.
Although surfing sorabji with an entirely text-based web browser on a frankenstien-monster kind of computer up by the ceiling is interesting too.

Bleah. Webpage is down, can't do much of anything with this danged machine. It barely does color. It defiately doesn't do fancy gui.
I don't have anything good to say.

[email protected]

Just because it stays green doesn't mean you don't have to wash and spin it. Bacteria multiply in the bag, even if they washed it just before packaging. Lettuce (or spinach, kale, if you prefer) should be washed just before use or at least refrigerated just after washing. Isn't the salad in a bag marketed as a way of having to avoid washing the lettuce yourself.

[email protected]

listening to the static in my head.
tuned into channel zero with the volume cranked up to 11 and color distortion zapped on aurora borealis fluxation.
wonder if i'll keep the promises i made last night. don't even really know what they were. not so sure i give a shit.
i hate when women use tears and hysteria to make you say shit you don't mean and make promises you have no intention of keeping.
held out for a solid 45 minutes, but she just wore me down. could've just walked away and let her battle the physical and emotional elements herself, but i didn't.
latenight streets are nowhere as forgiving as suckers like myself.

vladimir nabokov bided time in his gilded fortress while the bolshevik revolution raged around him. kept thinking about that last night, for whatever reason. maybe i need a new gilded cage. or a new revolution.

i keep having these strangely vivid dreams of new york city under marshal law. tanks rolling through the streets, armed soldiers on every corner, citizens terrified and terrorized. i see the world trade center in ruins; smoke billowing from gaping holes and the towers raggedly abbreviated half way up.
it always ends with this strangely familiar man staggering towards me screaming, "you my nigga! you my nigga!" and then dying at my feet.

must be millennium fever infecting my subconscious. or bad kaya infecting my grey matter.
either way, i have no worries.

this summer is the summer of my serenity.

and two zero zero is the year of the swine.

Thinking Sheila must be me in a parallel universe. The similarity of tastes is too uncanny sometimes.

The Austin-Healey is my favvvorite car! If I hit the Lotto tomorrow /that's what I'd buy. And maybe a gull- winged Benz/just to drive on the wknds.

Picturing a very blonde Sheila/looking like a young Grace Kelly/speeding along the PCH in her convertible Healy w/her very good pearls flashing in the sunlight/a flask of Vodka tonics in her purse/& a young Cary Grant type at her side...

*sigh* I just wasn't born for these times...

overwhelmed with compunction.

for the second time this weekend i've been forced to escort a cricket into its next lifetime.

funny. both times i noticed the them jumping all over the bath mat out of the corner of my eye.

well, i'll just have to get over it. there shall not be a repeat performance this summer. no sir.

wondering why she didn't know the word compunction.
just had to look it up.
good word.

i hate when women use tears and hysteria to make you say shit you
don't mean and make promises you have no intention of keeping.


sad amen.

playing hooky from work. The boss is gone for two weeks anyway.

thinking that tears and hysteria lead to meaningless shit, and not the other way around? i didn't know that. now i do.

Ahh, Swine is taking names & breaking heats once again....

Glad to see you're back to normal.

The word is out -- his Swineness is utterly untamable & bad as he wanna be. Which is half the attraction. And they all know that going in. So don't let anyone try to guilt-trip you into anything you don't wanna say or do, man. Life's too short for all that drama.

Thinking about a candle stick in my poop-chute.

considering hiring R.C. as my PR woman.

For P.R. work/I get $5000 a month
+ expenses + a wardrobe allowance. And I only fly 1st class.

I get to shag you on yr off nites when the harem girls are all pissed at you. (Saves time on our strategy sessions.)

And I get to ghost write yr autobio when you blow up after yr 1st CD is released.

Shall I fax you a copy of the contract?

wasting time. Ishould go home and practice my defense more, but I think I will put it off for a bit.

Reminding Cory that tragic consequences can ensue if he doesn't snuff the candle first.

[email protected]

It was a ghastly scene. I'm still awed by goose power. There is a corner near the back gate to the goose compound, with the side of the garage along one edge, the goose fence along the other, and a steep grassy slope down to a drainage culvert. Lucy's daughter has chosen this place to lay her eggs when she is out on the loose, as they are most days now. The signals her intention by plucking bits of grass and piling them on her back, then parking in a little hollow she has made. Usually the others wander off until the "I laid an egg" announcement and then come back to congratulate her. She is the one who is so laden with ova that she almost drags the ground with her pouch., Her eggs are huge, different from Lucy's. This time, as she sat on her chosen spot, Lucy jumped her, got her head in the grip of her beak, shoved her neck under the culvert, and pounded her unmercifully. The others formed a circle between the two females and me, as I was running over to break it up. When the ganders fight, it's normal, but I still break it up if blood is flying. This behavior among the females is unheard of. It is like wolves in a pack, where only the Alpha female gets to breed. They weren't going to let me get close until I pushed Mr. Broken Beak away. I pulled Lucy off, and the younger female started beating me with her wings. The whole thing was over in seconds, but it was so noisy that the horses were frightened. I have no explanation for this event. I shall consult the goose guru forthwith. When I picked up the egg, right after the fight, it was cold, so it wasn't a result of this sitting. And she had to lay an egg, I know that, now I don't know where it is. They can get "bound" and that is very bad, they can die. Poor girl. Mom troubles. Meanwhile Lucy struts around as usual, shaking her tailfeathers and lewdly beckoning to her mates to get in the water and fuck. I swear, it's all she thinks about. What is she teaching the little one? Twerp has taken up guard duty for the Rouen hen. So Lame Duck didn't do so badly, after all. Not that I particularly want to have his genes passed on to future generations of lame ducks, but oh well. Maybe there will be another drake and LD can have some help next year.

5/11/99, 0:00 AM
simon is:

more of a grouse and pheasant man. Geese and ducks are too oily.

Thinking that the months of the year are arbitrary.
I can not believe in May anymore. I am moving forward to July without regrets. If the summer sausage taped to my back holds firm I should be ok.

Protesting May and wondering how my gut became so large.

Half asleep at the . . .

shiny diseased underbelly.

smile and say, "cheese".

here.

now.

the best thing about bad gas is that when you have bad gas, everyone around you has bad gas too.

Issuing an advisory:

If you urinate when swimming in a South American river, you may encounter the candiru. Drawn to warmth, this tiny fish is known to follow a stream of urine to its source, swim
inside the body, and flare its barbed fins. It will remain firmly embedded in the flesh until surgically removed.

wishing Mark good luck for tomorrow morning.


go get 'em, podling.

shaving my dad's back.
Razor, razor.
jelly been.
Some day soon
you'll be a queen

reading cory's posts and remembering what my uncle ivan said upon seeing freddy mercury on the tv for the first time:

"y'know... that boy just aint right."

Putting all of my posessions into a blue Ford Taurus.
Starting to use the word Fnord almost daily to see if it really works.

[email protected]

LOL!

Wondering what Swine's uncle wd say if he ever say Marilyn Manson.

waiting... i seem to do that a lot. obviously it's not clear what i'm waiting for, although i have a few ideas - not that i can really tell anyone, heaven forbid anyone else had the ammunition i had for judging myself. as stagnating a task as it is, waiting still seems preferable to doing actual work. i mean, waiting is a simple, atomic process, you just do it.. it takes no time to start, and you can do it for ages. work is a complex sequence of tasks and decisions, it's hard to look like i don't care when i have to pay so much attention to a task.

[email protected]

wishing Mark a most happy and successful day.

launch my booty.com, baby

RIP shel silverstein.

I guess he found where the sidewalk ends...

[email protected]

on the third floor of a very old building on the north bank of the Missouri River at St. Charles MO watching my car be pelted with hail and checkin' for funnel clouds.

[email protected]

Thinkin about taking a shit.
Just thinkin.
(Plop-Plop_Plop)
Bombs ahoy!
Luv a dub dong doody.

wondering if that guy in Mark's office knows we're watching him.

...he looks a lot like Milt Johnson. I wish I had that many empty shelves in my office. This place looks like a used bookstore.

lookit everyone! the babe was FLIRTING with Mark!! yeow!

speculating on a lack of information...

Mark was flirting, and now the camera has been deliberately pointed at the ceiling while the action goes on unobserved below...

my email has been down for 2 days. if any of you have been desperately trying to reach me that way, (ha), what can I say....

watching the deathmonkey and laughing at the raving nutjob.

but it's like silently watching the blind negotiate through crosstown traffic.

oh so cruel.

they are probably up on the desk right now going for it.

keep your eyes on the ceiling for flying evidence.

jesus herbie christ, i just got home from work and apparently i missed the whole thing on office cam. but i did check in at work via the map guys' connection. ceiling cam would keep us informed even better. on the ceiling, not pointed at it.
yay sorabji.