Cat person or dog person?

half dog, half cat, half person.

cats are cleaner. dogs are more fun. it all depends on what i'm hungry for.

Ask me anything

Is This Illegal? This Is Probably Illegal. It Probably Should Be Illegal.

Which is to say the recording myself while driving thing, not the chocolate milk thing.  Oh, you'll see.

All's my car stereo's got is a tape deck and a radio, so I'm fairly limited in my entertainment for extensive driving. 

So this happens.

Are you Crushin' on any girlies?

such a saucy question to someone like myself, who just yesterday married a mega rich super sexy corporate executive government dancer yoga librarian and moved to an isolated tropical island with delicious food that is served out of extravagant headwear, which is, of course, insulated so as to prohibit the passage of any extreme temperatures to the noggin. Unless, of course, you desire the effects of the aforementioned extreme temperatures.

but that didn't really happen.

Being that I am a firm believer in many tenets of socialism, I will not argue over such issues as the rightful ownership and possession of beeswax, and which beeswax belongs (or, more precisely, does not belong) to whom. I will suffice to say that, yes - much to my dismay, my often (and otherwise seemingly) unrequited infatuations persist.

Are you happy now?!

Ask me anything

formspring.me

Ask me anything http://formspring.me/JTboom

Now awesome is just ironic.

I have been accidentally devaluing the word "awesome" through linguistic inflation, in that I have been applying the word to situations wherein the word is not necessarily applicable; when I am not, in actuality, anywhere near struck with anything near awe. The word has consequently lost the splendor of yesteryear (1).

So...sorry. (2)

sometimes when i'm in need of a giggle, i read the example sentences for the word "cunt" in the oxford english dictionary.

because i am an immature person with academic resources in the digital age.

Which is to say I have access to and utilize the OED website.

I pray that you have come to realize that using what is recognized as the most vulgar of curse words by most english-speaking, land-borne mammals along with 4 out of 5 dentists of mixed ethnicity whose sample groups were controlled for age, weight, social acuity, and catholicity, can often incur offense from third parties. Well, all three really. Just don't say it at parties. Or say it only at parties. Loud parties.

In using the aforementioned cuss, I have made it slightly more common, and therefore slightly less profane.

So...you're welcome.


(1) = because no one uses the word "yesteryear," which is why I am really glad I invested in it forty years ago. And yet, it can only become more common, so I'm thinking about selling off and cashing out. But don't tell anyone, I could get in trouble.

(2) = not really.

wear your big boy pants

and the panda said "i've never been one for catalogs"

by which he means to say that he does not approve of the aggression of the bears, nor the laziness of marsupials. So he just doesn't feel like taking sides.

Honestly, I don't think he knows what a catalog is. I cannot imagine that he would have a mailing address to receive one, nor do I believe that Chinese culture is particularly catalog-heavy.

He also refuses to eat anything apart from the nutrient-deficient bamboo that is actually fairly rare in the areas of China from which he refuses to remove himself.

Furthermore, it seems he is not a big enthusiast of procreation.

Is it black with white spots, or white with black spots? or are you just gonna stick with gray?


a ridiculous creature, to be certain.
put a stop to the feature and lower the curtain.

general surgeon warning - this is gonna hurt

Depression is about learning lessons, right? Whatever, the point is there's something profound here, like right here, right where these words are, but these words lack significance. So that sucks. But I'll spend the next few years or so reading between the letters anyway. 

I'm just thinking a little too far ahead. Living in the moment doesn't pay off, so they say. But taken altogether, I still come out economically disadvantaged, to be euphemetaphorically-correct. 

Staring into the sky can hurt the eyes (the fine print indicates that the real danger is directional in nature, but my eyes hurt too bad to squint that hard)

call your doctor if you have any questions. and I mean ANY questions, or just to see what's up, what's new. you never really ask for a status update in response, do you?

i spend some of my time staring at the blemishes on my wall. whistling whilst I salute the ability to be noticed. though i don't know how deserving of salutation is noticeability is not a word according to my dictionary widget. but perception brings response does it not? acknowledgment? salutation? you tell me, eye in the sky; you tell me, feet on the seat.

when you end up awake with your face in a puddle, on a street named after a man you once dreamed you were in a past life, in a city that is trying to convince you is a long-lost friend...think it over? I guess? I don't know, that sounds fucked up good luck with that. 

I've kinda got my own real life, literal problems going on over here buddy. So I won't spare no prisoners or no change from or to a life in a boxcar staring out the side and not the front, only aware of where i am without the going.

Do you like to listen to music while making love? If so, what? If not, why?

eeesh, it's been awhile since i've made love, but during sex i usually like to enjoy the scores from my favorite pornographic films.

The other times i just hum the chorus of "mmmbop"

and then i shout "mmmBOP!" when i climax.

Ask me anything

welcome to the world of yesterday

welcome to here

i see you've come looking

for a glimmer of hope in the pain

it's a world where we sleep

so the kettles can steep

and the sky doesn't rain much but clocks

if you'll just lift your foot

i'll clean up the soot

so you can lay down and die where you stand

i hope you didn't have intentions otherwise

well we don't like to please

but we can try to appease

if you'll just put some cash on the fire

my sheets were all tidy

but then i took a nap

it's a good thing that i planned ahead

the biscuits went bad

and the milk stings a tad

social security can suck a fat toad

because i planned on plugging my mouth the day i turn 60

if you'll pardon the pun

i just have the one

so you can get up to get one for yourself

it hurt to wake up again

what with the noise

and the dreams of incontinent lands

and i was thinking ahead

but i've nothing to say

so i think i'll just turn in for the day

i never planned on being happy anyway

highlights and besides

In the past year, I have greatly furthered myself both as a person and...an artist? writer? I don't feel comfortable calling myself those, but it's definitely something in a creative sense, and I think a great deal of it has to do with starting this blog, so I really appreciate everyone who has kept comin' back. And as my personal gift to all of my readers, I have compiled here a collection of pieces that I never published for some reason or other. And then, just to throw you off, I have intermingled several of my favorite blog'cerpts from the past year. But then, if you can make it all the way to the end, as the grand finale, I've uploaded my NEVER-BEFORE-SEEN GLEE AUDITION VIDEO!

But hey, before we begin, we must quote a relevant song, as is tradition here, or so it would seem.

ummmmmm...

"Twenty-one days lost at sea I fought For twenty-two years non-stop I've talked Through the desert, pissed drunk, and confused I walked I spit a tooth in the palm of my hand" (the avett brothers, "go to sleep")

enjoy...

Hear that? It's the gecko echo!

(given the title of this blog, the author would like to communicate that he would find it very ironic if he were to contract swine flu - the hogwash, obviously, not the...gecko echo? Also he would like to apologize for the general confusion in the show and the extensive lapse between episodes, but makes no promises to remedy the situation in the future. Well Heeeeeeeeeeeeeere's J- oh wait, I don't do this do I? That's Horace's thing.) Jonathan: And the Perspective has urged us to steer away from the Jonny Carson intro. (shit, of course, that's right. Sorry. Okay here's Horace with the introduction. He comes on all blustery and sick and pink-nosed sneezing into his very dainty handkerchief, just generally kind of f. Very unenthused- ) Horace: Oh you didn't know? It's your turn to go toe-to-toe with that bustle of life that's got you feeling so low. stop flying solo and give me the say-so to bring on this mofo OH JUST GET ON WITH IT!

haven't had time to do this lately. but it's easter, so...

(the apostles are gathered at a restaurant on the first Easter Sunday. Jesus barges in exuberantly, completely underdressed, carrying a large, brightly-colored basket with numerous goodies inside.)

JESUS. Happy Easter! I'm back y'all!

1^st APOSTLE. Holy shit!

JESUS. Yes it is the stuff of holiness, this.

2^nd APOSTLE. What’s a Easter?

JESUS. It means I brought chocolate!

1^st APOSTLE. But we've just eaten brunch.

JESUS. Oh la di dah, douchebag. I've been dead three days and already you're inventing meals.

1^st APOSTLE. No we just mixed lunch and breakfast.

JESUS. Oh...Oh! well that's just-!...I just don't understand the plane of the living anymore. And that's the most creative name you could come up with? Something tells me I'm going to need to proofread those gospels. You've started those gospels right?

1^st APOSTLE. Uh, well...

JESUS. Could someone please get me a seat and a menu already? (2^nd apostle does, jesus sits) Thank you. (He glances over the menu) Now. Where I've been - I'm not gonna lie, there isn't much to tell, suffice to say that three days is hardly enough time to spend in Hell if you want to see everything, so I can't really give you a definitive review of the place, but seriously, it wasn't pleasant. Funky smells. It was really loud. But still, don't take my word for it. Ask around. (becoming more involved in the menu) Oh I get it so you get the best of both worlds.

2^nd APOSTLE. Does this chocolate have raspberry filling?

JESUS. Oh, whoops. Sorry, must have gotten some blood on there. Well don’t worry, it’s blessed, it’s good for you.

scatter-brained would be an understatement, understand? but you'll have to say it louder because it is incomprehensible

"This is turning into a wild goose chase. well not a chase so much. a wild goose...search...investigation...case? ‘The case of the missing wild goose, or how i learned to stop worrying and love bureaucracy’" (sometimes I hate the university. all i wanted was my W-2.)

haha scented condoms. who is smelling them? i mean sure they smell pretty funky sometimes, but it's usually when there's a buncha spunk in 'em. And I'm not sure if a tinge of strawberry fragrance is really gonna do much for that. But i suppose there very well could be a large demographic of men with naturally smelly dongs. i really like hanging out in the condom section of the store. Its an important choice damnit. And also, you get to let everyone know...check it out, i'm planning on having sex. but man, I'm kinda peeved about how much these condom companies are charging for me not to come. bunch of fuckers...but then, i guess that's their business.

Is there a rift between the population called by the same syllable, separated by spelling? The answer: a-duh.

And then I went on to explore the preposterous-yet-almost-true-sounding history of the war of Jo(h)ns, and the horrible battle of Athan, and the legendary but ultimately tragic Ny Operation.

," said somebody to the left.

I think I'm'onna drink vodka-redbulls the whole weekend. Just for the holiday. You see, being that valentine's day is coming up, I thought it would be humorously ironic to tempt cardiovascular failure.

so raise up your glass for conflicting ideas, and drain the whole drink so they'll all disappear. i've got smoke, pills and powders, and needles and shots and i'm shooting the noose to get out of the knots.

So buck up, missy, because life is just a limbo of a stripped-down sort of symbol and you only make it simple by pumping up the music and lowering the bar.

But I suppose I fail to remember forgetting December.

Because the weather's gotten warmer but the winter's just begun.

I've got a clock face and I don't know which way is twelve.

So hold out for some splendor, hold onto hope, keep your eyes peeled for the sun.

Class is a synecdoche. Think about it.

But hey, that's why Benjamin Franklin invented alcohol. and jack daniels took a swig and exclaimed "I will found an entire civilization upon this sort of beverage" and jim beam said "me too!" and so they got to fighting. meanwhile a young samuel adams was taking notes in the corner - he had been searching for a way to get women to sleep with him at frat parties. And captain morgan went wee wee wee wee all the way to the caribbean. because he ain't got a home. now is it whee like an exclamation or wee like urination? i think the urination makes more sense in this context - assuming that captain morgan is a business drunk, which is easy to be if your business is piracy - because remember kids - alcohol is a diuretic.

'3:46 - A large round figure, measuring approximately 7 feet in height and 6 feet in width, is stationed outside of one of the exhibit buildings. Slightly bubbling, billowing, and inconsistent exterior. Yellow being the majority color. Animated (drawn-on) eyes and mouth, protruding nose, stubby arms and legs. Disproportionately large, white gloves worn on end of arms and similarly disproportionate imitation Converse All-Stars worn on the end of legs. Bears sizable red baseball cap - reads "Celebration Cinemas". Oversized red, striped basketball-style shorts. Roused by a stereo playing Michael Jackson's "Thriller", the being dances awkwardly, only spurred by the crowds of children drawing near. It doesn't even use the original MJ choreography. I am not impressed. Humans are an odd species. Even at a zoo.' I had the (Ms.)Fortune of coincidentally coinciding my visit with an event coined "Boo at the Zoo".

(bt dubs it was a dude dancing around in a popcorn kernel mascot costume)

It really upsets me that the thesaurus widget on my mac does not have an entry for penis. Or anything even remotely vulgar for that matter. Come on! Those are the like the best ones!

Fudge...sounds delicious right now. I haven't had a cookie since I-don't-know-when and I haven't made them since I-don't-know-how

The conditions are poor, but fairly consistent not at all temp'rate, but all too persistent The sky has turned red, but I am resistant

The nations we see are those we define by the contents contained on one side of the line we put our trust in those things that confine so you stick to yours and I'll stay in mine for conflicts occur when these two combine.

and ne'er the 'twixt shall exist.

And there is not an ant in my pants nor a pie in the sky that is cool with that.

To reiterate - that is cool with that.

And thus we say goodbye to neverland. Fuck your self and mine.

well i guess that about wraps it up here at the hogwash. here's to another year eh? hopefully I'll be syndicated by then. Happy anniversary to me.

jt boom

If you could make any two historical figures fight to the death: A. Who would they be? B. What weapon would you give each? C. Who would you want to win? D. Would you duel the winner afterwards?

jesus this is a tough one. oh! jesus would be a good one. but he couldn't have any weapons. and he would have to fight...joseph smith! and joseph smith would fight with either a scythe or twin sai (like Raphael uses...the teenage mutant ninja turtle, not the renaissance artist. but we should also consider an art contest i think). i think i would want jesus to win, because joseph smith kinda seems like a tool. but hey, i guess this whole fight-to-the-death thing would help me get to know him better so i can make a better and more balanced assessment. but for all you gamblers out there, remember, it's a tad rigged, because supposedly jesus can't die. soooooo...offensive.

but beyond those with religious associations, i would probably choose theodore roosevelt and andrew jackson, because that would just be amazing to watch. and to make it even more entertaining i would make them fight with wire hangers. i think that would encourage creativity. as per my preferred combatant, i would definitely say teddy, on accounta i've always felt that andrew jackson never got his historical comeuppance in terms of the way he is viewed now and all the crazy, shitty things he did in his day (e.g. the trail of tears). but if andrew jackson won i would make him face genghis khan. if teddy won, i would split a fifth of whiskey with him.

But then, I just don't know, there are so many great options... maybe helen keller and eleanor roosevelt! . sure, this would be a second roosevelt, but they seem like a family of scrappers. very refined scrappers. Also, this particular match-up would definitely be interesting given the rule-breaking nature of both of these fine ladies, such as eleanor's breaking of the "no marrying cousins" rule or helen keller's breaking of the much-maligned "mummies don't coach softball" rule. So what I'm saying is that this fight would be super hawt. Also, for novelty sake and promotional reasons, the fight would be broadcast live from an above-ground pool filled waist-high with dippin' dots. but they wouldn't have to be name-brand, helen can't tell the difference.

in other historical news, irony was invented. HA! Get it?! but seriously-

if i ever met abraham lincoln, i would say "suck my dick!"
not because of any problems with his policies or him as a person, but more because i always thought he had a perdy mouth.

and because i think his beard would feel good on my balls.

and i feel his oratorical skills would translate well into the arena of fellatio.

and maybe my dick would go all the way through! what with the head wound and all. if i could ever go back in time, i would save abraham lincoln's life by sticking my cock in his head to stop the bleeding. I bet the secret service never thought of that!

but if he did die, his last words would be something like "stop doing that" or "quit moving around". and it would be funny. to me anyway. everyone else would probably be weirded out, just as you are now.

and then a joke involving lincoln dying with "my dong on his mind"


tasteless.

Ask me anything

In the average human body, all cells divide and then die within a period of about seven years. Given that little nugget of information, you've had roughly three different bodies by now... How does it feel being Jon 3.0?

it's...annoying. i wouldn't recommend it. though this operating system has fixed many of the problems of previous editions, it is still quite disappointing - high emissions, noisy equipment, all while remaining mostly land-based. My favorite is still Jon 1.4 for adorability.

Wait, wouldn't I be on the fourth?

Ask me anything

Which finger is best?

Either the index or the middle. But you can't use just one.

Ask me anything

incorrigible dirigible is a self-plagiarism

(consider this a draft. please.)


I fell in love the other day. again. bother.

someone put too much love in this ol' heart o' mine. and if it's you, or if you have had any part in this stuffing of luffing, i want you to know that you have ruined my life.

melodrama.

but i don't think it's just love. it's probably passion unparticular impacting intersecting perpendicular going 90 degrees to both love and to hate because there's never been a competent pilot to date.

insert a quote from the scarlet letter, that is slightly and humorously misquoted on a friend's back. this is not in any way an endorsement of nathaniel hawthorne.

praise be to champion logic. for it is wise to do so.
ironically nonsensical. but still the most sensible.
not pertaining to the personal preponderance
which is realistically relegated to the reprehensible.

aren't we all the sad clown?
don't we promise to learn this lesson
by living the error all over again?

ew.

i'm currently at rehearsal lying on the floor looking up at a failing fluorescent bulb as the weakened electrical impulses pass from right to left. but that's probably an illusion. my phone does not have the power to record the phenomenon. and that makes me sad. a lot of things make me sad. i got a glitch.

but then it makes me glad that i actually kinda stuck to one general theme this time.

(with a looming gloomy giggle) you're welcome.

If the world ended tomorrow, what would your last meal consist of? (Sky's the limit. You can't east sky.)

Sky is a flavorful construct.
Directions don't exist in space.
BAM.

ummmm, sweet/mashed/mashed sweet potatoes, and/or chocolate milk. maybe put them together in a large container of some sort, one large enough to support my frolicking amidst these super foods.

oh, and the blood of the innocent.

Ask me anything

eventful

things happen a lot.
it's hard to act accordingly
but it's easy to react poorly.

...'specially when you're drunk.

seeing as how for some reason i trust my judgment at the moment, i'm'onna say that i often take the easy way.

...'specially when I'm drunk.

I pray for the day when i'm numb
to the cuts and the stains from the cum

With a hardy thumb's up, I'll wave with my cup
and watch as my fortune falls in.

I'll throw out my thumb, and roam like a bum
and escape from the wages of sin.


Fuck morning bird song. I'm singing "Thinking About You" in my radiohead.

Fuck birds. We've become too good of friends.

If you could never wear shoes again and had to live in either the frozen tundra or searing desert, which would you choose and what would you do about your feet?

Thank you, caller, for this, the most fucked-up of questions. This is difficult. So I will start with the obvious...

From various instances of flopping my wang out in public, I have learned several things. Dijon mustard is the most sensual of condiments, sometimes a bottle of dressing is easier entered than exited, and even the most well-organized of funeral wakes can be ruined by the noticeable combination of food and genitals.

So in conclusion, I'd have to say desert, because, though I realize there's the risk of delicate sunburn, it's easier and more comfortable to pee. And also, at least there's supposedly some pleasing hallucinations on the horizon to distract me.

Ask me anything

Dear Friend: I hate you (an evaluation)

but how can i really be upset with you when i continually seem so intent on disappointing myself?

The last thirty-some hours have been interesting. Last, least, lost my housing arrangement. I cannot even find shelter for myself.

Seriously, Jonathan? You must have missed the first week of class, because this one is pretty basic. And you seem shaky on the others -

Water. Got it. Fairly simple commodity nowadays, what with the waterways. Congratulations on choosing the right origin.

Food. You've struggled with this one before, but you seem to have gotten the feel for foraging.

Sleep. Also an area in which you've had trouble. It did not seem so essential in the younger age (remember when you didn't sleep for days?) but now you have had to drive yourself so hard to catch up with all these other essentials that it has effectively forced itself on you. But of course the comfort element is contingent upon...

SHELTER, motherfucker. There are invertebrates with hardly a nervous system to speak of that do this better than you.

Stop depending on other people, because they do not depend on you.
They are always going to get theirs, so grow the fuck up and get yours too.

I seem to be born under a bad sign, and not even in the bad-ass sort of way, just in the way my life is given to periodic full-on fallout collapse.

A nearby group of rope-jumping schoolchildren had this to say on the subject:

"Teacher, teacher
there's a creature
living under
the rusty bleacher!

a boy was sent
to go explore
but in he went
and was seen no more!"


Sorry about the negativity, everyone. But he has to learn.

I try to be positive. And usually it is successful. Because if it wasn't I would certainly be riding down a river called wrist on a raft called razor. it flows into "Come Sail Away" blaring over the speakers and then into (and thus completing a) melancholy melodrama montage.

You're cute. Stay the fuck away from my boat. You have too much to swim for. And I can no longer navigate this metaphor.

My room is the filthiest it has been in a long time. I planned on cleaning when my life let up after the semester was finished. But then it never let up. And you know, it doesn't seem like it is going to ever again. It seems that this storm has slowly turned into the new moderate climate.

The conditions are poor, but fairly consistent
not at all temp'rate, but all too persistent
The sky has turned red, but I am resistant

That was stupid.

Take a hint, lost boy. There's no such thing as Captain Hook anymore, you're just fencing yourself. In. Because if you don't build the fence, someone else will. Apparently there has to be borders.

The nations we see are those we define
by the contents contained on one side of the line
we put our trust in those things that confine
so you stick to yours and I'll stay in mine
for conflicts occur when these two combine.

...and ne'er the 'twixt shall exist.

tangent?


If i had a brain to work with i would tell you something about socks. and how they get worn in and comfortable. and then how they get worn out. or how they get lost somewhere between the washer and dryer, or the dryer and my drawer, or the drawer and my feet, and around again. either way they all eventually disappear and i have to get new ones. i've dwelt upon these socks too long. maybe they didn't like how i wore them or folded them together. But in any case, they're gone.

And in the mind of some pretentious asshole this makes sense as somehow representative of his relationships with people.

Speaking of which, I have to do laundry. So, to wrap it up, it seems this whole post has been about growing up. Ew. Second star to the right, and straight on til morning. Which is when I need to have this laundry done by. Otherwise I will be forced to wear my green tights and fairy dust. And there is not an ant in my pants nor a pie in the sky that is cool with that. To reiterate - that is cool with that.

It's a sine.



And thus we say goodbye to neverland.
Fuck your self and mine.

Where does dust come from?

It comes from all of your regrets. first the dust stifles you, gets on your skin, in your eyes nose mouth ears lungs. You try and scratch it off and out, but soon you see it's fairly useless - you can move it around but it will always be there. And then it just builds. and you have to sit down before you fall down, but then you regret sitting down, because you just have to stay there and become the host of what is mostly dead skin. look what you've done, you've made a monster.

Also it comes from stupid questions. But primarily it comes from an big dumb old invisible tree frogs. it also causes the changing of seasons. Snow - duh? I know this because I have spent the last three years and four million dollars hunting BOZ - that's his name, stands for Broke Outta the Zoo - like he's the Predator. And when I say hunting I mean both Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny Glover style, jungle and cityscape. But I think I need Carl Weathers. Unfortunately he has not responded to my emails. So if anyone sees Carl Weathers, send him my way. We'll get this whole dust and winter thing figured out.

Ask me anything

Cut from Reflection

this is mostly figurative.

My education is not self-affirmation -

affirming oneself mostly means masturbation.

I try to steer clear of the stroking and sucking -

I much more prefer to be poking and fucking.

Meeting the witness with monsters inside

bodes best for bodies with no place to hide.

if you were stuck on a island and would live forever, what three people or things would you bring with you? If it's person, they can live forever too!

You want me to say Alex Georgia Marky and little lift from god's gift...and some sour patch kids. But I refuse to be peer-pressured, so I'm'onna say Ginger and Mary Ann, Chef Boyardee, and my own personal thanksgiving feast. And all of the hard drugs I can stuff in my ears.

Ask me anything

If you ever make a terrible mistake and have children, what would you name them?

LUNCH.

Ask me anything

What, do you suppose, is the best method of procuring for one's self, a pre-destination?

The best method? Tough call. But I will say that if everyday you stare into the sun, or consume a sandwich composed completely of two pieces of fried chicken enveloping bacon and cheese, or even masturbate while choking yourself with a dog leash attached to the handle of a revolving door, you have a pretty good idea of what's going to happen to you eventually. For me, to continue along the same lines, I blow a load into the collection plate on sundays. Because what is more valuable than the gift of life? That way I know I will go to heaven. Though I am never sure how long I will be allowed at any given church...service.

Ask me anything

This is less a question, more a command. Write me a one sentence story pertaining to the meaning of life and jellybeans eaten by a dog. No creativity allowed.

"dog-a-jelly = yllej-a-god = illegible canine deity + pectin = dog eats jellybeans = jellybeans ate god."

And only because it is a one-sentence story can i not put a question mark at the end, which invariably makes it a fact. Also because I forget sometimes this is a place for answers and not more questions. This isn't church after all. Get it? Damn it. Get it.

Ask me anything

Are you a chicken? If so, then why does everything taste like you?

Could a chicken do this?....oh that's right, you can't see me. Well trust me, it's pretty cool. And I didn't even have to rip out all of the hair this time.

Ask me anything

," said somebody to the left.

Jon Stewart is brilliant because of things such as his way of communicating a sense of deep betrayal when he attacks John McCain. And to be honest, I think it's because of the 'h'.

Is there a rift between the population called by the same syllable, separated by spelling? The answer: a-duh.

And then I went on to explore the preposterous yet almost-true-sounding history of the war of Jo(h)ns, and the horrible battle of Athan, and the legendary but ultimately tragic Ny Operation.

And in some other version of the truth, I was working diligently on eating my way out of the dangerous hole-filled-with-goulash-and-coleslaw accident that my life has werewolf'd into this week. I'm painfully approaching that unit -verse.

cock man oppressor

in the words of the cheebah monkeys:"just one little binger, to brighten up your day"

I overheard some old guys talking.

PCU, a glorious film. a wonderful exploration of college life. circa seventeen years ago jesus has it been that long?

exploring the horrors and the folly of any stubborn, aggressive, radical viewpoints and the joys and glories of smoking, grilling, playing loud music and hockey indoors. Simultaneously! Irreverence in general. Hippie olympics. The so-called and aforementioned cheebah monkeys have an impressive bench, obviously culminating in a very adept canine. but even the dog can't do much if some preppie pre-frosh scampers across the pitch mid-game.

that weasel snagged the 'bee!

many important lessons to be learned: "You're going to wear the shirt of the band you're going to go see? Don't be that guy."

Gutter, i'm sorry but the man at the liquor store gives no shit about you missing your ride to the show.

Probably in a parking lot somewhere, picking his nose. But hey, George Clinton might just give you a ride back to the Pit.

Stay on your side!
Stop the penis party!
well, if you see her, could you tell her mr. pokey stopped by?
chuck, porterhouse, ribeye, I know how you feel.


I have so much homework and instead I am watching movies. but now, a dramatic retelling of a recent event-

"I saw a woman outside, walking in the road. She took five or so steps frontward, then two turned around, walking backward, with her aft end forward. Only to turn right way round again. She did this repeatedly, prior to her disappearance from the view of my kitchen window"
-"well I wish you would have let me know"
"I was transfixed! She walked with a new world in toe...she could have had OCD or agorophobia. perhaps she was being followed, by a person or paranoia"
-"maybe she just didn't want to get hit by a car. there's no sidewalk on this road."
"d'accord"


I hate sundays. it promises a splendor it suppresses, refuses to provide. Who appointed the sun in dis?

Crocodile valentine (part two of 2)

(this is for someone that I love)


in the virtual volume of vacancy, I
have charted a course through the vacuum of time.
connecting the dots, i'm clearing the way
for a thought to come through that i can't think to say.

it's very important, in matters like these,
to steady oneself and sway with the breeze,
so just slip from your window and float fancy free,
kick off your slippers and foot-loose with me,
fly the water, walk the sky, swim the trees,
the dangers so distant they don't dare disagree,
dancing and screaming to the tune that you please,
bearing in heart to make mind more at ease.

and yet i still wait, for til now there's nothing,
while i'm weighing the wind for everything, anything.

preferably something profusely profound,
but i tickle my tongue and it won't make a sound,
so i type on my keyboard, building twaddle abound,
but its not as much typing as a pissed sort of pound
to synthesize speech that will delight and astound
a dish that's developed, crisp, golden-browned
but i bellow and bluster and burn to the ground
and I try to pinpoint the pain and expound
but what comes from my mouth is the howl of a hound
so i run to the words and again we go round

then i looked at the way the wind had been wound
and how many ups were accordingly downed,
and that even some of the verbs had been noun’d,
and only to find in my mind what i found -

sometimes i can't think of a poetic way to say how wonderful you are.


(valentine's day is lonely)

"official clockwork mechanical man: does everything but live" (the valentine edition, part I)

ladies and gentlemen...drumroll please...I...jonnaeaquus tiresias boomerang...(waves arms to signal his desire for more enthusiasm, more fervor, more drumrolling suspense)........



......needed a haircut.

like a shaggy dog.

now I have one. Got one. I have gotten a haircut. It's nice, I guess. It is certainly lighter on the neck, and the eyes maybe?

and NOW I present to you several song fragments that communicate how i feel about things...


"It's a trap, it's a vicious trap...it's a map, it's a worthless smile...someone somewhere far away"

"tenth avenue freeze-out... I'm on my own, and I can't go home"

"I got dreams but nothing to hope for...lady, lady, keep your distance, I mean no good."


Damn you Avett Bros. for representing and supporting all of my cultural values so well.

I think I'm'onna drink vodka-redbulls the whole weekend. Just for the holiday. You see, being that valentine's day is coming up, I thought it would be humorously ironic to tempt cardiovascular failure.

Anyhow, I have felt like a disgusting human being lately, and it doesn't help that there are several places on my bedroom wall occupied by boogers. That's right people - boogers. They've dried into hard lumps over the paint next to my bed. And that only encapsulates a small part of my neuroses as a human being. So you might imagine the mush I have in my melon.

somebody date me. preferably someone who can cook - my microwaves are mad at me. and the oven is trying to kill me. I think it's upset because sometimes I forget to turn it off.

so raise up your glass for conflicting ideas,
and drain the whole drink so they'll all disappear.

i've got smoke, pills and powders, and needles and shots
and i'm shooting the noose to get out of the knots.

what the fuck ever that means.


happy day-before-valentine's-day.

what i do instead of productive question mark...(s)

one time i just wrote a very long poem instead of doing my homework. i decided it was too personal and i erased it. you've hurt me too much in the past, internet. i can't go throwing my feelings all over the place any more, because any one of those feelings could land on, like, some sort of rocky soil, and then what happens? germination? girl, i don't think so!

so i still have all that homework. i think i might just continue to avoid it - do one of those purposeful all-nighters. what's the worst that could happen?

in conclusion, friends, i will now be going for a run. because apparently that's something i do? used to. anyhoo. its a particularly bad idea, because (a) I have been smoking too much, too recently, and (b) i am recovering from a sinus infection or something. what's probably going to happen is, if there's still some sort of sinus infection-type bacteria floating around in my system, i will suck it into my lungs and get some kind of respiratory infection, especially if i'm not sleeping tonight. so i look forward (or whichever way time faces...hands...clockward) to meeting you on the battlefield, sunrise. just to give you fair warning, i will have at least 21 hours on you. advantage. headstart. so you best be ready.


i say good day.

I only started to think i was jesus when the traffic lights started to change for me. but only when i walk.

the early morning has a sense that can only be described as a gentle elegance. Or maybe a quiet purity. But that negates my first sentence, so fuck that noise.

the moisture in your tired eyes
sends light beams shooting dice their size

I like how recently every night of the weekend has been its own little adventure, full measures of success and failure. Which is good, because the weeks are long, and often epic defeats in terms of morale. So buck up, missy, because life is just a limbo of a stripped down sort of symbol and you only make it simple by pumping up the music and lowering the bar. Or is it raising the bar? The representation is a bit befuddled because tbe brain can't help but be muddled in the morning when the sun is missing and you've already missed most of the afternoon.

So get up offa that thang. shake it, you'll feel better. I promise. I heard it in a song.

I'm trying to write myself out of bed. Fairly ineffective. Better luck next time.

But I have things to do! I have to get around to hating the weekend for being mostly over already. For not being around when I needed it. But I suppose I fail to remember forgetting December. Because the weather's gotten warmer but the winter's just begun.

So hold out for some splendor, hold onto hope, keep your eyes peeled for the sun.

I have been pondering what inspires the very essence of the organism that is a human being to arrange its composition so as to navigate all efforts toward another human being.

And.

i think.

i might have an answer.




but it is only another quandry in itself. isn't that always the case dontcha find?



so i've got a mess more problems and this thought bubble has a long way to float, but its going somewhere. i hope it takes me with it.

they're called GRABOIDS! I would have spelled it with uh zee.

What a mood. These sure are confusing times we're all living in, people. Check ya neck, that's all I'm saying.

What to say...what to say? I don't think gin is my favorite drunk. I think I will stick to whiskey and tequila.

Oh, right. Winter break was alright. Uneventful. Unproductive. New year's eve was just a terrible experience for myself. For the most part. And this first week of classes was dreadfully strenuous. And I know it is only going to get exponentially worse as this semester progresses. And it will probably get so bad that I won't be able to focus on getting a job for the summer, so I won't get one. It seems life is dead-set on sustaining this malaise. But you know. whatever.

one thing i will say is that i spread peanut butter on my banana this morning. In a very sensual manner. But fer real folks, I have been doing it for awhile now, and it's a beautiful breakfast. Especially for hangovers. Very sensual hangovers. Ones during which you sense that you FEEL LIKE SHIT.

Dystopian today. That's probably not the right word. But when you look out and all you see is gloom and doom and mud and crud, what else can you see? I can't see the bright snow looking back at me, it's all cluttered with filth. And there's a piece in my eye. So there's no way the mess of fallen precipitation can sub in for the blankness left by the sun's bitter absence. It doesn't quite fulfill certain electromagnetic supply standards. Sometimes she comes out, though. I just wish I could hold on.

I like it when people say "dudn't". Or "doe'n't"?

I had a dream last night. You probably did too. But I remembered mine, which dudn't happen a lot. It was about a fire that burned the shit out of a building i was in. I don't remember if it was my fault. Totes probs.

The shelf at the foot of my bed is supporting several items right now, including:
-jar of creamy peanut butter (oh yeah, it wasn't just a euphemism people)
-butter knife resting gently across the lid of said jar
-mostly empty bottle of flintstone vitamins
-empty glass of water
-face lotion
-empty peel of banana, quickly browning
-small pair of scissors
-iPod(first generation nano with blue earbud headphones)
-mostly empty bottle of gin

And that means it's time to go folks.

Fuck me, right?