Tuesday, October 25, 2005


collage-y. to keep y'all occupied. before the cold weather really sets in i must tend the squirrels. and so. enjoy some of what i've enjoyed. la.

kcrw is fine like wine. i especially like receiving the music newsletters of one eric j lawrence music librarian extraordinaire.

norstein gets some space here of course. i always enjoy him. and here and here are some older articles about the golden snail. apparently he worked with some japanese animators to create this film based on a poem cycle by basho et al. pretty nifty. it's news to me. and i really really really want to see it. yes. here is the official site. can you find the photo of the silly glasses? and here's one more article for fun.

i always find something interesting here. poetry in translation.

do yourself a favor and visit francoiz. she's talented and beautiful. she not only sings she illustrates! fancy that! i am particularly fond of the clips for si tu disais (of course).

quentin blake. that's commander quentin to the likes of you. if you didn't like him when you were small give him a try now.

he's an animal unknown to science. but his crocodile friend has a lovely singing voice. and plays the accordion! hell yes! listen. cheb and gena songs! use the links to the left. specifically the one that says music. you don't even have to read cyrillic.

one can never have enough dinosaur friends. or tiny unsuspecting germans.

i like's cake shop photos fill me with mirth. i mean it!

read this. via the always wonderful mark. something to think on.

if you need a shirt to cover your nakedness may i suggest one of these.

malcolm has discovered the clove. good on him. and intoxicating tongue numbness too.

ernesto has fantastic taste in vinyl. and he's finally added comments. whoot!

the owls have returned. their return is sweet. and complete with vikings?

well. i daresay that should keep you busy for a while. adios.

Monday, October 24, 2005

weird science...

couldn't get warm today. my whole body like ice. waiting for the transfer on the way home the wind picked up. i had debated this morning about the correct sweater. but the weather. there's never any telling really. just now the heat is finally creeping back into my blood. good good.

recent dream of the red-haired girl toddler. two grey falcons on the grass behind her. something was off. brain off. and her hands did all of the speaking. she was a body of kindness. the falcons walked much of the way. then decided to fly.

today was a new measure of strange. and that without dreaming. i wonder sometimes about casting these words. what submerged thing or sea breaching thing they snag upon. suddenly in the midst of unrelated a question is fielded. i'm outfield and surprised. but yo la tengo. there with my mitt. i'm still unsure how the material of that question became a ball. and how it came into play. i'm scratching my head. (edit: mystery solved. that s.b. put it into play. well.)

tututututut. a little disappointing. as with pigeons so with people. the pretty ones are banded. and poaching while it makes the plate makes little else in the line of satisfaction. one taste of that dish is quite enough for me. thanks very much. it's afterall mostly a bloodsport. and i don't wish anybird harm. but don't i wish that those bands were painted more distinctly. it should be a law.

this morning the gentle giant appeared! right across from me at another table. i removed my headphones and he let down his read. friendly conversation ensued. how nice! but being early a chain of yawns. he has a tremendous yawn. but what would we expect? if i was a boy i would cultivate just such a yawn.

changed my phone number just now. the voice mail has someone else's messages. five of them. i saved one of them because it was too too strange. laughter of the vincent price variety and various odd muffled sounds beyond it. and then interspersed with the other person's messages one from a friend of mine. what?!

i could leave off with signing it all intials. i've even considered it. but. même chose. the name is still mine no? still in contagious circulation.

maybe at midnight i'll turn into a pumpkin.

the game of operation. don't touch the sides! it requires a most steady hand. thankfully i know one good doctor. if he removes the wishbone painlessly i'll give him three wishes. he's the only surgeon for this because he's not really one at all. and reluctant. probably faints at the sight of blood. in fact yes. yes he does. taktaktaktak.

my head throbs. i'll drink some coffee and dive into the written word. balm.

listening: bull in the heather-- sonic youth.

also edit: this is the real blogday because it's the 365 post. i considered disappearing here and beginning again elsewhere. i may still. i'll keep you posted. ahem.

Saturday, October 22, 2005

blue shade...

tow-haired nephew is so generous. insisited i share in his little repast of banana and grape. in fact the insistence included eating from his quite grimy paw. i must love him. nobody else would have gotten away with that. but i will be faking full next time.

listening: la valse boite-- francoiz breut et dominique a.

he's inspired the creation of a red-orange octopus. maybe felt. maybe that thing with the duelling needles. what a trip to the aquarium yields. he's also quite taken with choo-choos. and caterpillars. and as cliche as it is puppy dog's tails. really most everything is cause for a jaw drop and saucer eyes. two years old is an exhausting season.

the assumptions i make about people based on their shoes. today the supermarket was filled with wholesome and unsatisfied people. iceberg lettuce and bran-ish bread and weak-sided tan leather slip-ons. i wonder what the cons say about me. and the vodka pasta sauce and the 100 percent/unsweetened fruit juice.

now playing: our way to fall-- yo la tengo.

going to make split pea soup. how can you hate it?! said to nobody at all. but some people do hate it. baffling. so-cal has famous legumous dish restaurant. so la!

after seeing the picture of the blue shelf i feel calm. blue is calm and a color i'm not enough acquainted with. something is going to get a coat of blue paint. what blue? well. i'm just that vague.

not policing the spelling. have mercy.

it's time. must to go. good evening.

Friday, October 21, 2005


best part of the day's routine unvisited. i'd like to say the time was spent in frivolous fashion. but it wasn't really. i used to abhor a schedule. now i'm sometimes sad that the weekend is so long. especially noticeable when the schedule is interrupted. i wonder what was missed.

yesterday before the market the booksale. always i look in the children's section for that special couple of devlin books i had when i was small. lovely illustrations. so far i've not found any devlins at all. but i did find a jean de brunhoff. babar and zephir. i'd never read that one. so cute! who can resist a monkey?

the kaffir may be on its way out. i was inattentive for several hot days in a row. zut! not looking so good. but i'm hoping for the best. i love that damn tree. and its tasty leaves. fingers crossed.

literature? i should have inquired which. who? what? i only know maironis. i think that means i'm very ignorant. but ignorance is curable. innit? one only has to ask.

left the tuberose in the darkest room. moved them into the brightest one this afternoon. now back again. the house is not big but still they're astonishing powerful. so good. from one end to the other intense. even with the dividing doors shut. nice.

it will be strolling time soon. lola does the antsy dance.


Thursday, October 20, 2005


tuberose had. i was in a rush and so didn't acquire the nicest bundle. but they're still pretty fantastic. as i walked away from the street market nearly every person i passed in the dark turned to discern the origin of the good smell. those flowers! was uttered more than once. i drank mexican chocolate. out the window the courthouse and the clock chimes.

the sparing guy and i had a conversation about parrots. he sang me a song about a girl with flowers. he asked my name three times in the course of five minutes. and introduced himself as many. even though i noted aloud on the first exchange that our names rhymed. mnemonic polite as i'm terrible with names. faces retain though.

disappointed not to see a familiar person. but it's such a writhing wall of people in spots. to distinguish familiar in the dark would be uncommon good and difficult.

to let me pass two separate people in separate places bowed. how strange. it felt so courtly. to what do i owe? it's my regal brow. it must be. rrrm ahem. i kid you.

listening to chopin.

tomorrow up with the sun. to bed. g'night.

Wednesday, October 19, 2005

at the zoological gardens...

the two-toed sloth is a favorite of mine. but he was hiding in his sloth chalet when we came along. the flamingos always appear to my eye as oranger than pink. most of the animals were close to the pathway perimeter of enclosure. up close and personal with the tiger. so f*cking gorgeous. and then the sadness of seeing him stand and pace the wire. well. the meerkats have returned. they are another favorite of mine. sitting with paws a-dangle. kohl-eyed and black polished nails. the nephew saw the emu and proclaimed "big turkey!" indeed. oh and the galapagos tortoise was napping somewhere obscured from sight. dang it.

like we needed more pets. the brother has obtained a rather sizeable jar of goldfish. does not bode well. five years or so ago i left for a visit to texas and other southerly states. entrusted him with caesar. beloved goldfish. really. it was a feat that i managed to have that fish for so long. years. but when i returned caesar had taken the watery turnpike to the sea. brother thought it a good idea to initiate spider fumigation in my absence. but caesar was left in la casa. i think he used his last breath to curse us. no fish has withstood since. say a prayer for us.

listening: visions of johanna-- bob dylan.

today while awaiting the bus a giant crane lifted a modular lockery thingy over the bus shelter. huge. the size of a very large r.v. but more solidly built. i picked up some construction worker argot. and i saw how they shackle the edges with metal doodads. tighten them with comealongs. or is it come-alongs? dunno. they have quite a complex hand language those workers. the sky was perfectly blue. the crane vivid orange. and the weather was perfect. cold wind from the ocean and comfortably warm sun. simmering under my headphones.

it's a weakness. how i favor the beautiful human arm. the fingers and hands and wrists. if the cuffs are left dangling my want is to replace the space with my palms. which is why i identify sometimes with those shins' lines just a glimpse of an ankle and i/react like it's 1805. there's something to it. we've already seen it all. it's unavoidable really. so seeing less has its excitement.

lola is losing patience. she wants her w-a-l-k.

there's a pink silk-floss tree blooming. when i see it from the bus window i think to myself about the pink funkadoo. it makes me smile each time. i think the silk-floss blooms autumn here because in its native clime the seasons pull a switcheroo. or maybe our seasons do. relative.

listening: venus as a boy-- bjork.

tuberose tomorrow! whooot!

quite unpoopy headed indeed. yay!

hmm. i left out the umlaut again. bad bad bad.

Tuesday, October 18, 2005

how nice to find those electric letters waiting for me. someone cared enough to send warm wishes. that means something to me. significant. especially after a carom almost pockets the eight ball. events that make one feel small. so standing by a fragrant giant in a basin of fragrant giants makes for a pleasant contrast. even if vicariously. thank you she says.

i made away with a single pomegranate from the s.b. family manse. ssshhhh. nobody will ever know. they've got an entire grenadine works in the works. or could have if we imagine. at the very least they've the hedges for it.

listening: le ciel dans une chambre-- carla bruni. i know. i should try branching out now and again. i do listen to other songs. i promise.

tomorrow bright and early. and because of it. g'night.


before the rain began on this side of the grade i saw a fox. a fox! i haven't seen one in a while. it made me really happy. i was passenger not driver. afforded me the glimpse. right near the home exit and behind some toyon and arroyo willow and low oaks the firebreak road winds. it was there. little loping way and a tipped tail (which was the black my eye went to first). pointed face. they're a beautiful lot.

went to visit the sister and s.b. at the ol' s.b. family manor. so very glad to see those faces. before the anaheim excursion the sister made fun of my farewell hug. you call that a hug?! and now i can't deliver a proper one because of her broken bits. i won't be making the same mistake in the future. all hugs henceforth will be made to count.

the rain has drawn out what rain draws out. chorus frogs pale on el camino real. and on s.b.'s stoop an amber potato beetle. earwigs crowding the door jamb. and under the willow tree there's a particularly good smell. after closing the car door behind me i could have stood in the dark for that. for quite a long time too.

latin is not the same as italian. requiem is not the same as lord lover. i'm a big dumb poopy head. but if that's the worst sort of confusion i'll experience then i'm a lucky so-and-so. at least i have argentina.

i nearly completed a father sock! knitted like a mad person this afternoon. i'm so slow. if i'd looked up from my work an instant sooner a hello would have been had. sigh.

the black kitten/cat of the feral matre has secured a place. it follows me. it's spoiled and arrogant like most cats. however i've taken to it. to escape rain it leapt onto me when i opened the front door. it is he. but until then had no name. christened him kjetil. his face is velvety. his paws dampened either side of my neck. cold! and he seemed surprised when i turned him out the back door. kjetil was not meant for housecattery. not until he's mastered the doormat leastways.

and of mastery. i've finally gotten the hang of whistling with two fingers. my gran had tried and tried to teach me when i was younger. no go. but i discovered my own technique. et voila! i am loud suddenly.

grateful grateful sleep of peace. adored youngsters in their bed. and a good idea for me too. g'night.

Sunday, October 16, 2005

hits and misses...

received a call that was almost s.b. but not quite. the voice of zero modulation. the berm moulded lean and straight against canal swell. but an edge of betraying quaver to the halts. there was an accident and sister was hurt and there were separate ambulances and confusion galore. and no we don't know what hospital. and no we aren't sure of the injuries. and then hours of silence because we didn't know where or how. and then finally with the help of modern technology and a highway patrol dispatch sister was found. but her spleen was injured. her ribs broken. her wrist broken. and i wanted to crawl out of my skin because of the 2oo miles or so between us. and poor s.b. his new voice is part and parcel to his new look. he'll have a sexy marlon brando nose for the remainder of his adult years. or so i imagine. i haven't seen it yet. but tonight a call comes and my heart is more pacific. the spleen is well. the ribs will heal. the wrist has been set. the nose will mend. they'll travel back with the other family tomorrow. s.b.'s parents and sister.

and i opened an e-mail window and more bad news. the temporary muscovite mugged. and didn't escape injury. only now threading my organs back into proper alignment.

the heart's getting time off the bench. it's pounding the court etc. one day from tender/giddy and the next from terror/vex. i would like to rewind the year and replay with some favorable splices. maybe something good and grand is in the program for the next few months. i'd best wait on the creative edits.

too enhance the strange: i was trying on black party dresses while sister's bones were being set. i thought she was wearing mouse ears and riding a teacup at the time. and i was thinking how i rarely wear these black dresses. certainly a party must be given. or maybe i'll make myself a witch for halloween. it is the sister's favorite calendar day.

have i mentioned i adore her? and s.b.? to no telling and back.

my dinner is cooking. and my eyes are getting wonky from this fizzle-lighted screen. i go.

Thursday, October 13, 2005


on the last street what was taken for the labor of a dry hinge was in fact a cage of exotic birds proclaiming their vanity. then the orphan clothes dryer came into view. it's been standing since early summer. a sign around its middle. then diagonal the house of the tiny old irish woman. steely eyes. i used to think she was insane. now i know she just loves saint francis. she came to me once because she'd lost her gathering basket. i asked her to describe it. and she said without a trace of humor "it has a handle." she's fascinating.

at night the connect-the-dots is primarily light. amber lamps. light emitting diodes. bluey white dooryards. stars. moon. planets. planes. radio towers. in the day it's birds. in the desert it's that which casts a shadow.

tonight our shadows were crisp. i wonder what phase of moon. haven't been keeping track lately. a deer-like dog issued from origin unknown. the things that come bristling from the night.

i've missed the tuberose again. this time because i didn't trek over the hill for the market. this means i have to go next thursday. the season will be over soon. and i'm not leaving the vendor until i have me a stem or three!

this disc. a perfect feeling expressed through imperfect means. and the reflection of flaw is powerful and touching. the recognition of that striving is powerful and touching.

new socks appear on my needles. these for my father. soon i'll be working two pairs at once. the second a larger gauge for the growing moscow cold.

the house is silent. the sister and s.b. gone to cavort with giant rodents in anaheim.

to knit now.


my eyes want to shut. maybe this is a good sign. i am most alert at night. but it is nice to have a regular diurnal mammal cycle now and again.

there's a scar on my arm from the dog bite at age seven. today as we walked home a dog came tearing out of the alley in front of us. mouth open and snarling. my breath caught. i gasped and froze. it was the spit of that other dog. the long dead dog. a ghost. and then a bicycle followed and a living man in the saddle. he hollered the dog down and continued away. i looked at the sister and before i could finish my sentence she said it for me. and we laughed with relief. no ghosts for today.

there are real dogs and better. lola is looking over her shoulder at me. now she's pointing at the door. subtle creature.

somebody's expression was stamped into me today. that kind of essential look we all have. like a gait. after the uniqueness is discerned and recorded from this place of fondness it's possible to recognize a person at a distance. a head tilt or shadow that marks one as a friend.

the house is cold. a cat outside has draped himself along the threshold. the marmalade coat. the fictive familial addition. a neighbor moves and we increase by his leave. if you name a stray it suddenly becomes yours. but we've named him anyway. after the crazed bee-keeper monk of brothers k.

mare became a nickname for the sake of celerity. and yet. what is quicker than a tendency to spook? as the hillbilly in me would say you're being a calf's tail. in other words the shy does not always serve you well. it's not a coat for every occasion. reinstate the y. the internal canter will keep wrapped in its saddleblanket. but the buck will have its tie-down too. you can approach for apples and nuzzle.

how is it we are fortunate enough to have a world class performer to ourselves? we're a portion of lucky coast.

s.b. has two new students. he had a case of nerves about their first lesson. but all went well.

alright. this is serious. eyelids flutter. to bed.

Tuesday, October 11, 2005


at frenchman's flat in nevada my father witnessed four atomic tests. he visited this evening and he told me about them. he was in the service. the signal corps. but at one point during his time with the army he spent a week watching white blasts with dark goggles. there were revetments. on a 3 count after the blasts they were allowed to peer over the edge. he said everything was white and when he held his hands in front of his eyes every bone was visible. like an x-ray. this was at a distance of five miles. he said from that point on he couldn't imagine anyone ever wishing to unleash that power on another human being. he said anbody who had witnessed such and still wished to harm others with that technology had to be insane. unfortunately many people witnessed those blasts and felt quite differently. the greatest thing since sliced bread you know. and bumper stickers to prove it. people paid to sit in the desert and watch with opera glasses and binoculars. granted for them it was an extended distance. i suppose that's a factor not to be overlooked. what distance does and means.

the words tossed about by spectators related to killing communists. but we didn't know so much about the results of radiation. the finding out advanced by primitive means. at ground level the residual was strong. ascending it was less. but how less was a question. so pilots swallowed strips of x-ray film wrapped in little cello bags and tied with a string that dangled from the mouth. after flying through the mushroom the string was reeled up like a well draw. the film examined. thus the levels were crudely obtained.

it was later revealed to what extent the residues remained. after cancer raised its ugly head. we're a cancerous folk with our leftovers.

thanks for the cheery convo papa!

in other news...

the sunday visit was postponed until this afternoon. two visits in one day! it must be some sort of record. my dear dear friend and her two wee ones. the elder wee looked out the window and said mary i love you! heart melted. and the younger wee has the most contagious laughter. i've missed having a girl friend. primarily my friends are male. that has been the trend for the greater portion of my life. nearly the same with my friend k. we discussed this. the reasons are still mysterious.

i must rid myself of a large quantity of tomatoes. there are so many on our vines. one can only eat tomatoes for so long.

this evening's undertaking revolves around three: concerto sonata and symphony. distinguishing. i'll put on my thinking cap.

hmm. if the strains of radio are indication we've put our foot in a heap of leftovers. yes. a shit heap of residue. but led by the guy in waders and no sense of smell. father-- let's talk about horticulture next round. alright?

gah! give me the cleansing sound of pop music. better.

Monday, October 10, 2005

more morten...

the norwegian music flows on. this afternoon it was morten abel. but all interspersed with this one aha song. i'm irritating me now. but i'm a sucker for that impressive vocal range. and norwegian mortens.

this morning i had to drink adulterated green tea. lemon flavored. i do not approve. but the options were few. i'll remember to bring my own sencha next time.

also this morning my head got spun. what happens when someone sneaks up behind us. and i turn and suddenly see stars. some people make this happen to me even when i'm internally trying to rein the equine tendencies in there. the urge to bolt from nerves or glee. logically what is called for is a small handshake. but the horse factor leaps simple gestures. in place of platonic displays it pumps all valves like a race to the death. the heart becomes a lozenge up by my tonsils. isn't that silly? and yet if it happened again some morning i would be well pleased.

someone entombed the cat. i suspect little girls. atop the mound were skeletal fronds. i wonder what the service was like.

why is it so warm! it is october, yeah? innit?

a gentle giant gave me an enveloping hug! oh. it made my legs melt in an everybody-get-toegther-and-love-one-another-right-now sort of way. the hugs flew! s.b. and the sister also grabbed by the giant. and then he said take it sleazy and departed. how strange.

i'm searching for something to read. which shouldn't happen. there's enough that i shouldn't need to search. but my mind keeps blanking. ah well. somewhere i keep a list of what comes next. but i can't find that either. snarf.

listening: indian volvo-- morten abel.

oh. within the span of three days we've been mistaken for twins twice. so nice. there's a tell though: i've got the little mole and brown eyes. sister is sans mole and hazel eyes. but in passing those go unnoticed i suppose.

later alligators.

Sunday, October 09, 2005


as i type aha issues from only one speaker. there's a short in the connection. so annoying. anyhow. i'm sort of a closet aha fan. sort of because i've only listened to 2 or 3 of their songs and only enjoy take on me. that's what i'm listening to at present. after i'd first heard sondre lerche's music i found an interview with him. he mentioned he was a big aha fan. this along with his sweet pop songs cemented my liking.

have felt the need to put my fingers in the tentacles of a sea anemone. they stick because they're stinging you. trying to stun you and eat you. but the skin is too thick. it's ridiculous that i live within short driving distance of these little critters yet i rarely visit a tidepool. must remedy that.

there's a dead cat in the street margin. a group of girls put acacia fronds over it. poke at it with the toes of their shoes. it was a feral cat. i doubt it ever received so much attention before. but as the fox would say such affection requires a taming first.

i can't remember my blogroll password. oh crumb!


i go.

Saturday, October 08, 2005


last night it was chicken-legged punk rockers in the dark. tonight it was someone resembling the alm-uncle. a cousin of my father's that i'd met once when i was too young to recall. i instantly adored him and his wife. i wish i'd grown up knowing them. such kind and gentle and witty people. people with a love for teasing. and it took someone's death to gather us into the same room. shameful circumstances.

this morning i was drilled in toddler lingo. a repeated request i couldn't quite grasp. and then my nephew used my pants' leg as a handkerchief (mystery solved!). i don't need to tell you it's a privilege i extend to few.

after dinner dessert was offered. at first i declined. but the alm-uncle cousin elbowed me and pointed at the cheesecake. damn it! what else goes so well with very black coffee? and when i shared a slice with the sister he sat smirking at us. eyes twinkling. himself with a bowl of something cherry-glazed. a trouble maker.

wow. it reads like betty crocker. so blissfully domestic. but it's exceptional familial not common familial which is why i'm noting it i guess.

snarf. snarf. i'm tired.

to bed.


these boys in black garments. occasional hands. gold-edged gestures. appear bound in the traces. the buck of steerage. the wavering. what i want to say is thaumatrope. but it's not a word for this century. no matter how it suits. bondage pants and badges and a crass alphabet see to that. big a little a bouncing b etc. these chicken-legged boys. well.

listening: temptation-- new order.

it's nice to have the correct tools for the job. until tuesday i was missing some of the tools i needed. and the money to buy them. print and sound. suddenly things begin to make more sense.

sunday's visit will make me very happy. i've missed my friend.

s.b. made a ridiculously funny self-portrait. every time i think about it i start giggling. maybe he'll let me post it. he made himself a devil with a bratty grin. remarkable resemblance. and a second similar except he's got a yellow bindle. waiting for a train.

in other sectors...

oh. there's the girl with the pointed features and the pixie-cut hair. sometimes i stare because she's just so wee and cute. i hate describing the wee people as cute. (i have a bit of a chip on my shoulder about that. i'm wee. i wouldn't say i'm cute.) but she is. and she had a mound of cookies. she very shyly offered them. if only i hadn't just eaten breakfast! fiddlesticks!

listening: the devil's radio-- robyn hitchcock.


tousled/cowlick-y hair. attractive. ah me.


tomorrow i overhaul the blogroll. there are names to add. whoooot! but now i go to sleep. for the good-night: le ciel dans une chambre-- carla bruni.

Thursday, October 06, 2005


my budget didn't allow for the surprise $6 bundles of tuberose. i had planned on the usual $1 per stem. i had planned on buying an odd number 3. odd is better for arrangements. more auspicious or something. but nobody was selling the usual single stems. and i wanted a cup of mexican chocolate. so i let the wonderful waxy tuberose alone. and the chocolate was so very good and spicy and hot. the air very cool.

i received the best news. there was a miserable weight. the weight is gone. dankeschön.

s.b. lent me a copy of a recording of some seriously somber music. and i burned a copy. it's a nice one. but somewhere in the background behind the kyrie and the wrath is a sound like a cartoon seal slapping its flippers rhythmically. an imperfection in the mother disc. s'okay. the flippering is short lived. and i can always purchase a copy sans seal at another time.

the handsome record store clerk was seen with two bundles of tuberose. i suggested to the sister that i trip him and run away with one of his bundles. and she seconded the idea saying "he'll topple like a redwood." but that would have just been mean.

ah well.

Wednesday, October 05, 2005


what makes a man remove his pants in the meridian? what makes him then do a jig with his cleverly crafted cardboard sign and bend over and poo for the people trapped in their cars at the stoplight? clearly it's a special calling.

and also what makes a man recount the tale over anniversary dinner in a crowded eatery? in very animated fashion too.

and finally why when the tale was passed to me did the combined details make it that much more amusing? dunno.

Tuesday, October 04, 2005

we'll return in two and two...

enjoying my headphones when i was hit by a gigantic dust devil. it was huge! and really beautiful. except for the bits which remained in my eyes. those were not so beautiful.

this evening's debate (it's a doozy) was all about chuck woolery. we agreed upon his signature hand motion. where the dispute cropped up was show of origin. newly weds vs dating game. neither! love connection of course. it's a train wreck. and the cabins are still piling. re:reality dating shows.

also i was chided for not rolling my rr in the word burrito. correction-- not rolling it enough. we weren't speaking anything resembling spanish. so. i was stumped.

technology is great. but when i start mistaking very small flashlights for something godiva and cocoa-y then i'm in trouble. what is the purpose of a torch that small? i'm confounded.

well. g'night.

Monday, October 03, 2005


on the corner there's a small ironed snake. next that an ironed wasp. there the chain becomes too small for my eyes. away a pace crickets produce the stereo sound. if we avoid trenches we put our backs to traffic. in an instant it could snuff. i yelled dumbfuck! not sure which. my heart up and lozenged. the house of (binary) fortune. best to keep one's head.

if six monkeys....

as often as i like. it means the same. forestall and headstall are allegiant to the round. here the flatness goes unrivalled. jibe into that ear.

in any case i avoided joining the snake. but only narrowly. the night walk really requires a suit of lights. and i haven't got one.

Saturday, October 01, 2005


listening: maps-- the yeah yeah yeahs. because sometimes cleaning grout requires something guitar driven. and that voice born of garage bands.

ask if i almost tripped and fell again? i wish clumsiness was purely genetic. i could blame someone else. but it's all me! such a klutz.

oh. it kicked over. listening: testament to youth in verse-- the new pornographers.

the bells ring nonononononono...