Yes, This Site Is Boring.

I know this.

But, at least it's FREE boredom.

As Far As This Last Year Goes...

I want this next one to be totally Boo Radley as opposed to this years horrific Liberace naked jumping into a pool.

The Horror...

Christmas sweaters...EVERYWHERE!!!

Egg...

Everything that I wished for before I now have
and everything I now have is nothing compared to what I had.

Alto...

I collect brilliant scraps of life
like you do tickets

I'll start writing my shit down when
you learn how to FUCKING drive

Truth...

Having a hole in your sock
sounds much better than
having a sock in your hole.

Christmas Craptacular...

Downloading songs for my work's iPod. I'm in hell. Bing Crosby helps, though. Sammy Davis Jr. does not. I want to shoot him in his glass eye.

Items I'm Watching...

I wish the rest of my life was as perfect as my eBay feedback score.

Fat Free Milk Friends...

Awww...man. I'm really touched but no, my house didn't burn down. I rent anyway. It's true that all of my crap is gone but that's only because my ex-girlfriend has it all.

Crap. I feel bad. I'm fine. Kind of. Same old me. Thanks, guys!

Oh, What A Tangled Web...

Fire's out but I can still smell the smoke. It permeates the air, my clothes will need to be washed and I'll need someone to look at these burns. My house is gone. Smoldering ruins. My pets are nowhere to be found. I'll miss them dearly. All of my possessions, the comic books, my passport, TV and computers are blackened husks. Not so important I guess, but all of that will be hard to replace.

Today's my first day of starting from scratch and so far...

This poem is all I own.

Robinson Crusoe Meets Jack The Ripper...

Haven't been writing on this old friend, here, Fat Free Milk, because of big life changes and a lack of a computer. Revisiting a lot of the ol' pen and paper Deus Ex Machina. Maybe I'll end up getting more done. We'll see...

Malaysian Emperor Cicadas...

Each bruise on my body tells a story.

I Am A tiny Man...

Very small.

"You Get So Alone at Times It Just Makes Sense"

Bukowski knew.

And I think that I'm just beginning to get it.

Kyle Was Right...

Fish and chips at the old pub was a lot better than eating with the blue-haired ladies at Carrows. True, true.

So Sweet...

You save our honey bees and I'll spend my time building natural sized cells, and virtually eliminating my Varroa and Tracheal mite problems.

He who tries to forget a woman, never loved her...

Which one are you?

The one I miss now?

Or the one I loved before?

Ear Noises...

Choosing not to write is sometimes the best way to express your feelings.

Hey Kid...

One day you'll grow up.

One day you'll have an important moment of clarity that spirals through your brain and explodes outward through your heart.

The newly-found, diamond-like focus that suddenly envelops your eyes will cause them to well up with tears because what you've just learned is so, so beautiful...

You grew up...

You finally get it.

And now you're too old to do anything about, kid.

Yom Thorke....

Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana...

Raoul Duke: There's a uh, big machine in the sky, some kind of, I dunno, electric snake, coming straight at us.

Dr. Gonzo: Shoot it.

Raoul Duke: Not yet, I want to study its habits.



Yesterday's Hippies call other people "Hippies" now.

Think about this...REALLY.

bis vincit qui se vincit in victoria

He conquers twice who conquers himself in victory

im the guy

right now

writing about things to write

my soul is the Earth’s sun 8 million years from now

and my heart is chum, constantly thrown into oceans

jotting down ideas

and always writing about writing

and my writing

always takes a lot of rewriting

i’m so tired

and so ready

to cultivate the paddy fields of your mind

mine your ore

and excavate your precious resources

i am big business

when not writing about not writing

you’ll never see my greatest moments

and if you do?

then I’ll see it first

because,

im the guy

right now

writing

trying

People Like Me?

Need to make money off their ideas or they're just wasted.

A Prayer For Owen Nicey...

Yesterday, a spider rappelled down it's own thread right in front of my face at the bar. With my luck or my usual absence of, it figures that I came close to being bitten by a spider that was not irradiated with potential Arachnid-like powers but with venomy drunkeness instead (oh wait, I might already have that...)

Also, later that night, while editing my Great American Novel from the back patio, I picked up a penny from the ground and a tiny spider about the size of a red pepper flake scurried away beneath it.

And then this morning, I peed Tarantulas.