exxxpo

that lobster is a tough customer.

I'm not sure of where I'm going with my writing, but that pleases me. I'm always ambitious beyond my means... and that's what killed Starscream.
If only I live to be disintegrated. That shit is awesome.

everything is funnier in a robot voice.

the living laser

ugh.

I don't know how I feel about things when they change all of a sudden.
I'm conflicted and it's not even interesting to write about so we'll leave
it at that.

when I was a kid, I wondered a lot about the moon.
I feel that NASA and science have ruined that for me.
But if it was a soundstageconspiracy, then maybe it is
made of cheese and maybe a man (or lady) lives there
and s/he has an awesome hat.

oh, alice notley. you'll be talked about tonight.
by me, specifically.
when I dissect your owl pellet, it won't have any bones in it.
just some knitted eyebrows, pomposity and pretension.
and some okay words.

wasted my blog this week.

I've yet to see a blog that is really worthwhile, though. no offense to all of you or me.
if you'd like to get offended and start a fight with me, though...

....be my guest.

oh-oh-oh i got election

Who will be the new mayor of eagle?

Coincidentally, I have been thinking of birds lately. I don't know why.

do you remember that Bradbury story about Ernest Hemingway's parrot? I do.

I think that's all for me.

humanity is a sexually transmitted disease

Halloween. Ascii. Well, firstly, ascii means a few different things,
I think. But to me, it is mostly just creating images out of text,
like the Luger you see above. Aren't poems images created out of text?
Ascii fascinates me mostly because it's crappy and awesome,
like when you log in to a Multi-User-Dungeon (MUD) and
there is a drawing of an elf or an orc or something using the letter 'H'.
I sort of hate elves and orcs, but that is pretty amazing. I did no work on the
Luger, but the parallels between crappy ascii art and my poetry are pretty
striking.

I didn't mean to make any connection just then, I just wanted everyone to see an ascii Luger. Oh well. My roommate's girlfriend wore a jacket that said "asci" to a Halloween party I was attending last night, and I was sad it wasn't ascii... and no one got it. Now someone will. Basically, I was a space pirate and I listened to Tech N9ne and had a good time in general. I am not a particularly fighty person, but I almost got into three separate fights yesterday.

none of them over ascii, though I'd fight for ascii before I'd fight for any political party or religious ideology.

I love sonik youth

last published

irony?
hardly.

sometimes I start out drinking or eating or doing something because I think it's funny and crappy, but then I get really attached to it because there was something good to attract me in the first place. you're damn right I'd drive a monster truck if it was offered to me.

Lifter Puller's stories of big city hipsters on drugs have sort of inspired me,
though I hate those characters, and I don't hate the drugs.

I didn't do anything with that inspiration, instead I looked to the
Joker action-figure I found at Albertsons while I was buying frozen pizza
and a case of keystone. I mean the red keystone, not
keystone light or keystone ice, because let's all face it,
that shit is for date rapists, and that is not at all cool.

Ol' Glory is cool.

assholes

they blocked my stolen cisco image, so here it is, I stole it even harder this time. you will regret keeping your belongings safe from me, because when I come back for them a second time, I won't smell nearly as good as I did the first time.

assholes. this is the internet.

it takes you by surprise

from bumwine.com - "In 1991, Cisco's tendency to cause a temporary form of inebriated insanity led the Federal Trade Commission to require its bottlers to print a warning on the label (above right). The FTC also forced them to drop their marketing slogan, "Takes You by Surprise," even though it was entirely accurate."

Indeed, it takes you by surprise. You can't buy Cisco in Idaho, and that's probably a good thing. My first night in San Francisco, we stayed at the Green Tortoise hostel and bought 5 bottles of the stuff. "There's no way we'll finish all of this!!" Hah. It was my birthday, it was 8pm and I hadn't eaten all day. We each had a big bottle of it (me orange, David peach) and by 8:55 we were insane. We scared everyone else out of the Tortoise's lounge by yelling about the Sinestro Corps.

I'll put it this way: drinking more than one bottle (or even one bottle) of Cisco is like being trapped inside your own body. Your eyes are windows. You can see what's going on outside, you just can't control it. You're aware that you can't say anything smart, or really even anything intelligible. You really want to, but the Cisco warps your words, and changes your best intentions into filling a sink full of ice just so you can drink more Cisco. My birthday dinner was a gas station muffin. More strange things happened that night than any other night in my life.

It stays in your blood. Necromancy is required to be normal again. I'm not joking. Five bottles.

How does this pertain to poetry?

How doesn't it? This is about what happens to you, something that takes you by surprise. Ideally, everything you read or write shoudl take you by surprise.