Insigniatic Cancer

Good Afternoon, Boredom-- a Casual Q and A

2008-10-05T18:30:00.004-04:00

If I were a magical 8-ball.

Will I ever be happy, Dwight Evans?
Dwight Evans thanks you for your letter. He is currently at the dealership-- Evans' Ford Nissan Toyota-- please try back later.

Can a man with soft spots possibly act hard?
This is a tough one. I'd say the easiest way to attract attention is to wear a dung-colored seersucker suit and scream at passers-by.

Will the real Young Dro please stand up?
Oh, Dro. Willst thine brilliance ever cease? NAY, I SAYETH, NAY!

If a shark refuses to swim, how does a remora survive?
Chilln, son. Having a cold Orange Mervis, laid back without a care in the world.

Gime psuanos.
Nope.

Where oh where did my little dog go?
Miss, I need you to check that bag. IMMEDIATELY.

Is Ken Griffey Jr. worth the risk next year?
You are a hop, skip and a jump away from the immortal truth of the damned.

Can I borrow a feeling?
Lend me a hand with your glove of love.

I'm leaving the country soon. Any tips on staying safe?
Corral the men, it is time for BATTLE!

IT BEGINS

2008-09-30T23:31:00.003-04:00

Here's the deal: Revolutionary Road is my favorite novel and I don't like movies. If this movie sucks it will put me in my fucking grave. Sad, but true.

So, who wants to go with me while I grimace and flinch a lot? Even if I promise not to point out the flaws between the movie and novel? Seriously, c'mon. I'll even pay for my own ticket. I want an objective opinion on this thing.

txt mssg jambaroo

2008-09-27T12:38:00.005-04:00

Paul: would you go to lunch with oj simpson
me: When and where?
Paul: hes gonna pick you up in an hour. i think he wants to go to sanfords
me: Works for me.
Paul: ok he wants you to wear the blonde wig
me: no dice
Paul: BITCH I KILL YOU I KILL YOU BITCH I K

This is my life.

Some Woman

2008-09-13T17:08:00.004-04:00

I saw a woman with huge feet--
not elongated. They were like
soaked toilet paper rolls
expanding through her sandals.
She was raspy-throated singing
a praise song in tongues. Her
jacket was compressing drug-
sweat, her body rocking back
and forth presumably to stay
awake. Her breath was likely
hot through her remaining
teeth.

Her hair whisked out of a knit
cap in balanced proportions
through no effort of hers. Her
knuckles were cracked and
bloody as though she dragged
them alongthe sidewalk at her
sides. She stopped singing and
looked straight up before spitting
on herself; she could have been
my mother. Her lithe frame was
imaginable despite its covering
mistakes.

2008-09-10T02:49:00.003-04:00

Better times were not had by the kings and queens-- entertained by fools-- but by the jesters drunk on their own consistent love of their own tomfoolery.

Seriously, though, if you don't like this song (yes, the video is cheesy, I know) I don't have time for you.

Another Woman?

2008-09-03T23:09:00.006-04:00

Tally up to the scoresheets, bridal showerists:

You have touched the edges of Constantinople's
skin and emerged to talk about yourselves as
often as you'd like.

You have importuned your people with talk of
sexuality and feathery orgasms and blitheness
with horse-like speed.

You have played footsie under the tables in the
beer halls that hold the fabric of America together
like rubber cement.

You have played courtesan to the best men and
groomed intelligence before leaving to complain
about patterns of snow.

You have everything working in your favor;
nothing to be upset about and all but time
but time to destroy yourselves with it all.

Tally Up the Scoresheets, Bridal Showerists.

2008-08-19T00:20:00.004-04:00

Another Woman
Thankfully, she would not wake up until later, so
I left early to sleep in my old house where I still
had a bed.

When I woke, I felt the claws of a strange,
unfulfilled night on my shoulders.

I wanted adventure not companionship;
the difference between the two being
something I've been drinking for years
to figure out.

I SHED BLOOD FOR MY PEOPLES

2008-08-13T00:39:00.004-04:00

We cannot stop the patterns of incredulity that surround us, we can only stitch together the bursts of talent ripping past our skin.

Considerable are the overwhelming sadnesses that cause contempt amongst us; survival is the only option in such cases.

Guards have been let down and the movement is compromised-- the blood of our people has been SHED. REVOLT!

Holla.

2008-08-07T23:08:00.001-04:00

There is a certain verbosity to this man in a sharkskin suit and he is wearing a button on his lapel denigrating the government for conspiracy involvement. So he looks at me and he says to me he says I was three things in my former life one I was a lover of all meats and cheeses two a lover of all women-- shapes and sizes; colors no matter and three and finally three I was alive during the greatest of all times that being the beginnings of it all.

I replied, earnestly and with my hands wringing from the cold, ah yes I've been expecting a grandiose knave recently I am always happy to placate the minds morose and mad; can't handle the melancholic you see because I always relate the ideals to my own life-- a different set of experiences and god oh god I've lived so little in this, the time of pointless theses and drying rivers and did you say y

INTERIOR CROCODILE ALLIGATOR

2008-08-03T13:33:00.002-04:00

Interior crocodile alligator
I drive a Chevrolet movie theater.
Interior crocodile alligator
I drive a Chevrolet movie theater.
Interior crocodile alligator
I drive a Chevrolet movie theater.
Interior crocodile alligator
I drive a Chevrolet movie theater.
Interior crocodile alligator
I drive a Chevrolet movie theater.
Interior crocodile alligator
I drive a Chevrolet movie theater.
Interior crocodile alligator
I drive a Chevrolet movie theater.

Thanks to TID Lite for this brilliance.

HEY YOU DUDES

2008-07-30T08:30:00.004-04:00

I am watching the brilliance and brevity of movement
I am watching sharks dismantle a whale's carcass entirely
I am watching as I deteriorate
I am watching
I am watching a man create psuanos
I am watching creationisms long-form interdynamic
I am watching a crowded street get scared as a car barrels into a restaurant door
I am watching the context shift and sojourn
I am watching as a man fiddles with a stack of unpriced books
I am watching as a th
I am watching as the ashtray fills
I am watching vigilantly
I am watching with a hawk's eye for detail
I am watching the canvas shift forms
I am watching as you amble toward your fake-destiny
I am watching a series of movements that mean nothing
I am watching quietly
I am watching with a voracious appetite and no money of which to speak
I am watching a man slip in and out of a coma
I am watching a television show and it is OK
I am watching the conjunction of ideas
I am watching theories rise and fall like chests heaving out the ash of the air
I am watching a contiguous, nay, continuous disaster
I am watching pretentiously
I am watching and it just occurred to me that I may not really want to but I have no choice
I watching with one hand clutching Bolivia's coarse dirt
I am watching despite my lack of interest
I am watching without charisma or deleterious contention
I am watching while misusing words
I am watching I am I am
I am watching patiently.

breaktime

2008-07-19T00:17:00.001-04:00

YA I KNOW OMG

Psuanos: FAQ

2008-07-13T22:34:00.004-04:00

How should I order my psuanos?
Call the restaurant of your choice and be as polite as possible. They are working hard to give you the best possible scenario for you and your psuanos.

Is the waiting period really in upwards to five years for delivery?
Yes. Psuanos take at least three years for the internal cooling process to taper and for them to harden. An unhardened or too-hot psuano could be harmful for the recipient.

What are psuanos?
A psuano is a AmeriMexican by way of Germanic-Indian tribal culture dish involving ingredients from several flying animals to create a hodgepodge of potpourri-like aromas and flavors.

Where the living fuck is my order? I called this in hours ago!
Sir, please exude a bit of patience. We urge you to read the Psuanos: FAQ and call back with any further questions. We apologize for the high-demand, low-yield nature of the sale of psuanos, but we assure you of the quality of the product and your patronage.

How long will psuanos last in my fridge?
Truly, a psuano should be consumed minutes after the outer shell is cracked for maximum freshness and avoidance of disease culture. They should be cracked and consumed within twenty minutes of delivery.

How should I crack the outer shell of the psuano?
Gently slap your non-dominant hand while reciting a memorized selection from one of Ezra Pound's Cantos. Repeat until hand is bloodied or psuano is cracked.

Why are psuanos so hard to make?
Our psuano chefs are professionals and can attest to the fact that the oft imperfect art of the psuano is incredibly difficult due to the high-octane nature of preparation. Creating the protective shell and maintaining the ideal conditions to mature the psuanos is an involved process allowing for little sleep, occasional blindness, broken bones and, in some cases, the lost of a chef's life. Enjoy!

I am getting fucking furious, you have hung up on me twice, uttered racist and homophobic rhetoric at me and I have not gotten my delivery order. What gives?
SIR, CALM THE HELL DOWN BEFORE I RIP OUT YOUR MAGGOT-RIDDEN THROAT IN FRONT OF YOUR FAMILY.

How can I ever thank you for this delicious psuano? This is the best food I have ever had!!1!!1
Don't worry ma'am or sir. We take the compliment as enough!

How much is a psuano?
Depending upon the weight and width of the psaunos and the time of season, they can run in excess of $300/doz. Orders come only in dozens, maximum three dozen.

OKOK. FUCK THIS. YOU'VE TREATED ME LIKE SHIT, I'VE BEEN WAITING SIX HOURS HERE.
*gunshots

Do you have any psuanos?
Go fish.

I'm thinking of moving.

2008-07-06T20:24:00.005-04:00

I've had more conversations about the i-phone in recent weeks than I have about anything remotely concerning artistic or spiritual gain. I have seen more people complain about their surroundings than I have people enjoying their collective experience. I have seen more people conclude than listen. I'm finished listening to you all: friends, enemies, animals, sportscasters, anchorwomen, bartenders, well-wishers, and etc. I'm seriously through for awhile.

Remember me as an armed peacemaker, a founder with no foundation, a wanderer with a home. Remember me as a proud man with no actualization, a mini-mart without loose cigarettes, a vacation at its tail end.

They're closing down the small stores to open the large chains. They're blending the cotton shirts with the linen suits. They're adding fuel. They, they, they.

Maddening are the calls for the heads of the American young to progress. Maddening are the election blurbs, calling cards and dealership loan letters addressed to occupants country-wide.

I've not been around. I've no interest in your daughters, your fortune, your traveling whimsy in your old age. I've not a care in the world as long as their are none for sale. I've not to the time for them.

Lethargic, categorically.

Marathons of shells are cascading over the rooftops of the cities and no one can afford to count them-- not even while trying to sleep. Not even while redesigning bathrooms, stacking cookware or twisting the frames back into bifocals.

Listen, mothers, their will be no revolution. Not in Montreal, Minneapolis or Mexico City. Not in New Haven, North Mecklin County or Nuremberg. Unclasp your hands and center your palms on the tables to prepare for the boredom of retirement. The reclamation of American never happened and will not, so carry one, carry all, carry on.

Makeshift millionaires have been created in trust and triumph and the bellicose are no longer in tow. All of the card-carrying bullshit artists are rewarded in time. Prostitutes are long-forgotten despite clenched eyes, balled fists and long-needed release. The power brokers are undaunted and unbroken while lashing their creative juices across their backs.

In the morning, I will need a shower and a shot of whiskey to keep my bedraggled nerves from striking out at my fragile countenance.

Or something.

Oh, oh oh. Wait.

I almost forgot to ask you why I loved you like I love the moment the oscillating fan hits me in muggy weather, why I sometimes think the most bored times are those we are avoiding the importance of our brilliance, why we can and and cannot and why we muster the strength to deny ourselves a sense of importance when we are most certainly most deserving.

What might have conglomerated in pools of methodology-- collections of collections-- make the heaviness of humidity hang over muscles mired with the weight of inflexible attitudes.

I have driven off without keys having mutated the mire, marked the monstrosities, molested minutiae and mastered metered minutes.

Still, though, I know not the objective correlative.

I cannot remember the metaphors I meant to place here: perhaps a running horse or a tired owl, a running brook dallying around a set of sun-baked rock, a contemplative set of furniture or a jet-stream warming a set of holiday carolers.

In any event those metaphors would do nothing. Drive them out. Pay attention, pay attention to me, here. Pay me attention. Pay attention, whistle in tune, avoid your condemnations, make sure nothing happens. Pay attention me.

No wind is rustling most days and the idea of sanity is so sweet and so kind and it might bring you an iced drink, decaffeinated, or it may lay it's hands over you sweetly after plucking a guitar and love you for awhile before cooling it's hands in the water next door-- leaving you to contend for yourself. You will be left to stretch toward goals untended.

You will put yourself in your grave with a knotted throat, withered hands and a sense of gratuity unfounded in the drizzling rain the world alloted for your unattended funeral.

After all, dying.

A Conversation Part.com/whut

2008-06-27T11:57:00.003-04:00

Paul: do you want some beans

me: no thanks

not hungry

Paul: no one ever wants the beans

me: they suck ass, Paul

Paul: i've been in business for 27 years

you kicks come in here and don't order the beans

me: they fucking blow, killer

Paul: guess its time to close down the old cafe

lord knows the old girls put in so much work

sigh

guess i'll retire up muskegon way

start fishing

maybe fix up the old chevy

Paul: how bout some of these beans

me: no thanks

those beans taste like sweaty palms

Paul: guess its time to put the plywood up on this old place

sure gonna miss it

so many meals, celebrations

eat the beans

pay for them

me: those beans look like withered skin

Paul: ok so lets see one order of the tacos

two plates of the nachos

128 pounds of the beans

comin right up

me: no sir

I was just here from the bank with this foreclosure notice

Paul: YA JUST ONE SEC I GOTTA GO BACK TO THE KITCHEN TO MAKE DEEZ BEANS

me: no one ordered any beans

Paul: i can't hear ya over the dishwasher

got your beans comin right up

me: sir, sign this

Paul: no autographs

thanks i'm flattered though

yeah we do make the best beans round here

but i'm just a local boy keepin the family business open

servin up my delicious beans

to all comers

me: OH GOD-- those beans smell like salty gonorrhea

Paul: they say you never forget your first bowl of beans

i remember summers by the lake house

the beans stacked high as the pine tops

i remember aunt jodie getting raped and murdered

me: Jesus, my burning nostrils.

Paul: i remember long summers with the beans

telling them my secrets

me: I can't stop vomiting

Paul: people get excited about the beans

they come in here all drunk from the pop at the macdonalds

lookin for a nice bowl of the beans

shot two of the colored boys last summer

badmouthed the beans

you can smell it can't ya?

that's the smell of the good beans

me: God fuck David I'm bleeding from the chest

Paul: they say you're not really ready for the beans until you've been stabbed in the heart

its just an old saying round these parts

but every summer a man understands why some sayings ring true

me: WHy is this happ

Paul: your beans are comin right up son

GLORIOUS BEANS

SHINING BEANS

me: Soul evacuating body

Paul: that'll be 290 dollars for the beans please

me: gckkkk gckkk

Paul: okey dokey just 282 more please

me: hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...

Paul: we only take american dollars sir

me: hlp mhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Paul: you come back now and see us again

i'm glad you liked the beans young man

get on now

we're closed

me: ssssssssssshhhhhhhaaaaaa

blud

hrlp

hrlp me

Paul: GET OUT

THE BEANS NEED REST

me: the whole beans convo is going up on cancer

Paul: epic

A Conversation Part Somethingorother

2008-06-17T13:41:00.004-04:00

me: petted a cat at the fruit stand last night

nice cat

had different colored eyes

paul: robot

me: was scared of everyone else but me

paul: sent by the government

me: liked me

we became fast friends

I bought cilantro

and a red pepper

paul: cat nightmares

memories

red pepper rainstorm

me: we were lost souls reformed to love again

it was a brief yet powerful meeting, Paul

paul: soldier explodes in the shadows of the rump waggling tabby

me: it understood my pain

it saw through my facade

paul: blood stained driveway

me: I saw perfection Paul-- its shedding fur matted in clumps leading me to my true destiny

it was a cat, yes, but one with brilliance and mirth

paul: we all knew the garden party would be the last time gordon was seen alive

i barfed in the spare bedroom

too much sangria

Roasted Like Evah

2008-06-08T13:17:00.003-04:00

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, Eli Porter:

REMIX:

shirt

2008-06-01T04:10:00.005-04:00

And so the tacos settled in their sun-lit valley to find that the grubs had eaten all of their corn and the tacos needed their corn so they destroyed the grub colony but erected statues to help ease their guilt for the lost grub colonies and this delighted the tacos and they rejoiced-- LO HOW THE TACOS REJOICED.

The truck settled its engine after use, the owner now inside eating delicious tacos his wife had made, and the truck smiled-- in a way, because, really, the truck could not have the muscles to really smile, but if you anthropomorphize a bit, you can see how the grills of certain trucks can fool you into thinking they can smile-- when it thought of its master enjoying a ride and then tacos and then a few beers; can we all be as happy?

The taco struggled to lose weight on the days prior to the bout so that he could weigh in under the lightweight 135-pound limit but prophetically, the taco wrote the message "live or die" on his Las Vegas hotel lamp shade only days before the bout (the taco wrote "live or die" but a mistaken translation led to "kill or be killed" being reported in the media)-- the taco even had a mini-coffin brought to his hotel room.

Narrow guises got the taco from state to state but living on the lam would eventually catch up to him-- his need to communicate was too great: whores, barkeeps, cabbies, loose women-- and he ended back in jail after being caught on skid row with the blood of another taco on his hands.

What giveth the taco its weight shan't perish upon the shoulders of the damned.

Perhaps the taco should have considered his options: the smoke around the building half-covered an already slender moon, his hand clutched a gasoline can half-heartedly, his heart beating at half its normal rate.

It was a pleasure to have you over and I am sorry about the tacos, I usually never overcook anything I was just nervous I guess, but you wanna hang out this weekend-- I don't think I have to work, though I am not really sure-- God, those tacos should have been better, I swear I can s

EDIT: Alternate Translation.

Tall Orders

2008-05-27T12:59:00.004-04:00

There were turnways upon turnways an
d giant carrots bellowing the grandest of
songs--creme du menthe in vestibules, r
estaurants, filled, used wrecked ship par
ts lining their walls-- customers red che
eks illuminated them all while we scatte
red complimentary food along the floors.

Motion is supreme. Motion is supreme.
We would shout that at all the stand-still
lockjaws and pigeons clicking about on th
e sidewalks-- "A fine and charismatic cal
vary doth walk these shores captains!" A
fine time to cradle the crevasse of the sea
and so we swam until our muscles crampt.

We were the leaders of the free-world, th
e lovers of emotion, the chilling end to a so
ciety filled with suited buffoons and the on
es foolish enough to believe in the grandue
r of love and I did love you at some point, b
ut not then and then not ever oh ever again
, oh not ever again did I love you, oh never.

Afternoon Wines

2008-05-21T20:22:00.003-04:00

Our wanting hands wander about the body as if
cars traversing highways-- roads narrow toward
city limits and soon the speed traps will come.

Fetch Me a Remy Mervis on Diamonds

2008-05-11T16:06:00.013-04:00

The Orange Mervis must be served ice-cold for maximum refreshment.
The Orange Mervis is something best made by professionals, but can be homemade if necessary.
The Orange Mervis may or may not contain a, or many, slug(s).
The Orange Mervis has a bitter flavor at first, but goes down smooth on a hot day.
The proper Orange Mervis should have orange peels floating over the top of the drink.
A Flying Mervis is mixed with alcohol and gin once the Mervis is ejected forcefully from the glass.
The Orange Mervis must be served piping, if not scalding or even boiling, hot for maximum refreshment.
The Orange Mervis is thew perfect drink for social occasions.
The Orange Mervis can fixed Arizona Style, Regular Style or Hindi.
The Orange Mervis, Arizona Style, has all the accouterments of a Regular Style, only it is served with Icy-Hot (or Vick's Vapo-Rub, if you cannot find Icy-Hot) around the rim.
The Orange Mervis, Hindi, has a variety of spices dumped into the glass and curry powder around the rim.
The Orange Mervis must be ordered description last like an adjective after the noun in Spanish. Let me have an Orange Mervis, Hindi, you might say.
The Orange Mervis should always be ordered-- if a bar is Mervis-free, once should not patronize said bar.
If a bar has The Orange Mervis on tap, well, this is a fine bar indeed.
There is an Orange Mervis bar on First Avenue at Doldrids near the Lower East Side, I believe.
The Orange Mervis should be served lukewarm for maximum refreshment.
The Orange Mervis is a fine thing for a Winter's day.
The Orange Mervis will get you druuuuuuuuuuuuu
The Orange Mervis is a combatant for social change.
The Orange Mervis will contact you if you need it's services. For now, it will bring the car around.
The history of the Orange Mervis is long and storied.
The Orange Mervis, straight from the microwave, is the perfect drink for a night alone while crying due to the crippling depression that haunts your pathetic life.
Ah, an Orange Mervis, an excellent choice.
Noted Orange Mervis enthusiasts include: Kobe Bryant, Mike Tyson, Gov. Mike Easby, Richard Yates, Yosemite Sam, Paul, and the patrons of omgtru bar on Third Street at Yoval Ave.
The Orange Mervis is banned in RI, MA, MN, NC, SC, ND, SD, WY, MI, NY, Sweden, Africa, Eurasia, FL, GA, AL, Crooklyn, the Staples Center, LA, TX and Candyland. Void in Canada.
I am losing my mind.
The Orange Mervis must be served medium-cold for maximum enjoyment.
The Orange Mervis can be found in other flavors, but that shit is for the gays.
Let me get a Flaming Mervis, Mango, because I am the gay, you might say.
FETCH ME AN ORANGE MERVIS ON DIAMONDS.
The pluralization of Mervis is Mervii.
TGI Friday's just added a Tangerine Mervis to their menu. I wonder...
The Orange Mervis is a delicious addition to your party platter.
The Orange Mervis, so good it will make your asshole split open and bleed like a wounded soldier.
Let me get an Orange Mervis with a hot towel for my split anus, you might say.
Now that is a good Orange Mervis. Delicious.
Bottled Mervis is available in many flavors for those on the go: available in Classic Orange, Tangerine, Mango, Spearmint and Algae. Coming soon: Orange Mervis, Hindi. Must be 21 to purchase bottled Mervii and WE I.D.
Can I interest you in a refreshingly hot Orange Mervis?
The Orange Mervis is perfect-- it is pure energy and light to be worshiped while ingested.

Passive-Agressive Pacifism

2008-05-07T01:52:00.004-04:00

There are shopping carts in lines, and
kids hiding in their makeshift enclaves.
When Walt sighs aloud, he is shifting the
burden of blame onto his wife, his children
and, in finality, the whole chickens thawing
in the basket adjacent to his ice cream.

Walt can fly. He can flap the tiny wings
at the ends of his mustache and lift himself
above the fray of shoppers and managers--
none of which know just why Walt can fly,
but he knows. He knows and he knows and
he decides to fly without frills or filler.

Walt will become accustomed to his skill.
He has placed his hands on women and
rubbed dogs' bellies and slipped under cars
discreetly to change their oil and walked
out of jobs without warning and told his
mother she was full of shit and apologized.

The other shoppers will be amazed-- mouths
agape, arms dangling, apples rolling slowly
away from their unclenched fists, eyes wide.
His wife will whisper "true" into the cashier's
ears and his son will nod approvingly as he flies
untowardly toward the edges of stratosphere.

Though he's bought a house, placed his feet
on strangers' coffee tables, sexed in his dad's
washroom, destroyed a computer monitor,
learned to cook proper short ribs, and slept
through the beginnings of a war, he has never
used his power of flight until just now, just now.

And as he raises his arms, the milk splashes
out to the ground with a thud like birds ne'er
heard, ne'er heard. He is going to show them
his unfettered brilliance and he will do it for
everyone who has ever wanted to condemn
themselves for their choice of off-brand tuna.

He will do it and it will rock the foundations
of want, the confluence of absurdity, it will be
the penultimate perfection in his life-- the last
being the one time he realized why he couldn't fly
until just then. He was waiting, waiting, waiting
waiting, yes, until he was Walt, nonetheless.

Ugh.

2008-05-02T01:18:00.003-04:00

I have to learn how to be a poet by tomorrow. I am reading poems in public at the Outpost Lounge Reading Series-- 1410 Fulton Street (between Classon and Grand in Brooklyn) at 8 PM, Friday, May 2nd. Feel free to hurl potatoes and run from the released white-backed wolves as they intend to maul me before I allow any more stilted shithole words to escape my ultra-bearded mouth.

Yes, they serve beer.

SMOKING UPDATE: Cigarettes are gross, dude.

A Biographical Moment

2008-04-27T21:08:00.007-04:00

I am reckless with want:
I am christened with the blood of wineskins.
I am created from molds.
I am weighed down with alacrity and machines.
I am paralyzed by bread.
I am impartial though haughtily stacked in belief.
I am locked like valuables.
I am collapsing upon the ocean's salted beds.
I am the definition of relief.
I am belied the idea of falsely engraved idols.
I am endangered like owls.
I am following the masochism of my father.
I am not doing well, people.
I am the depiction of lifetimes of pictures; alive.
I am not that photogenic.
I am the effort of reality, the realization of want.
I am made of the tree bark.
I am a man of suits and ties with no employment.
I am the rising exhaust.
I am an endowment of fur warming the indigent.
I am corn-stalks grown.
I am worn about like a loose, carrot-colored dress.
I am scared of all of you.
I am reinventing the created subtext of my footfalls.
I am unsure; melancholy.
I am the ending before it happens; a tenement ragged.

POLITICS

2008-04-13T13:38:00.008-04:00

Write-in votes I would consider putting in over Obama, Hillary or McCain (simply for humor value).

Mr. Burgers (D)
Marist Walter Wellermeyer, Esq. (R)
Wandy Sterwing (B)*
Henry Bagels (I)
French's Yellow Mustard (D)
Saddam Hussein (D)
Hurricane Chris (a bay bay)
Paul (R)
Devin the Dude (R)
M. Thomas Tacos (D)
Bruce Springsteen (D)
Any One of the Cats from the Picture Accompanying My Previous Post (R)
Gus Johnson (I)
Dr. Mr. Pickles, the Mildly Retarded Horse (R)
Frank Norris (N)**
Glen "Big Baby" Davis (I)
MAYES (FAT)

*B=Black, only gets vote if America agrees not to assassinate him, because he is my friend.
**N=Naturalist, of course.