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.

taking tiger mountain (by drug addiction)

so I did this thing...

where I drew Ghost Rider as Evel

Knievel. With his jumpsuit

in the opposite colors of Evel's jumpsuit.

That's what I do instead of

constributing to society.

Evel and Johnny Blaze both inspire me, though, and that's the honest truth.

I don't know what to say other than things that get other people going don't get me going. I see a clip from Blade Runner where the special effects are super outdated and it looks like shit and I think "Damn almighty, that is awesome!" and I'm inspired.

Crappy things are too often cast in a negative light.

adding one more disapproving

Batman is opposed to mindwipes, and I'm sure that I agree, but it's hard to agree when others say differently and make good points. Magic should be used for bunny rabbits and not to wipe people's minds! Especially not Batman's mind.

bat signal bat signal

conervative thanagar.

"Are you just the clean cut frontman for your pot smoking buddies?" a landlord asked my friend this weekend.

Mindwipe that asshole and let the magic corocdiles feed upon his soul, I say.

But it IS pretty funny.

candied kryptonite

I'm using that title for something else, too.

Times are weird baby, I know. I know.

There's no use in pretending that I haven't been watching Smallville. But only the Green Arrow
episodes, I swear! I'm glad that my life is not such a soap opera. Or if it is,
it's more like that one with the vampire. Dark something?

I admire Simon Belmont.

If there was a modern equivalent to Homer, he would write of Batman's journey through Gotham to Arkham and back to the Batcave. He would write of Daredevil's identity being exposed and his subsequent trip to prison. These people are our Odysseus' and Achilles' and all of those other mythical tough guys. These are our mythical tough guys and maybe they're not such drama queens.

What is an epic other than a soap opera? Panels or no panels.

64 ounces of Coors and several Pabst pitchers later, my friend was sleeping on my couch and covered with every item in my house, and it

did not even wake him.
It was a surprise to me, too, as I went to sleep before it happened.

Every piece of junk in the world can be placed atop, and sometimes we won't wake up.
This is not about me.

This is about every morning and the guilt of Coors and piles of junk
and those things are poems in themselves, right?

now blogger saves yr drafts automaton style

charles olson, you are my khan, i am your kirk!

that means you're
an evil genetically engineered
superman who put
a galactic earwig
into my friend's space helmet!

i will have my revenge.

pewpewpew space war

well, even khan wasn't all bad.

i want to write poetry about power metal album covers,
but that's not socially acceptable yet.
we're not progressive enough

to realize
that trashy, campy things
are more profound than the
intellectual
nice and shiny ones.

omega beam, i am out

quantity over quantity

blah.


I wonder about percentages. How many bad poets listen to Morrissey while writing their bad poetry?

Am I one of them? That's a percentage question.

It's the water.


I haven't seen any motorcycles jump through flaming hoops lately. A damn shame.
The ultimate poem would be the one Evel Knievel wrote about Larry David.
He inspires me more than anyone.

anyone except for the following:

1. satan
2. the devil
3. dead people
4. bloggers
5. the guy who invented emoticons/the wheel (same guy, trust me)
6. lucifer

first verse same as the first

all poems, mine and otherwise, stem from this image.

There is nothing wrong with the kool aid you don't drink.

the world would be better without Harry Shearer

if Robert Frost started every morning with a graham cracker and the half beer he left in the fridge the night before, he'd still be alive.

I have been thinking about Tokyo lately, and how it pertains to Mothra and her pals.

King Ghidora, king of all ghidoras.