posted at 1:32am
current mood: stereotyped and classified
current tunes: Suzanne Vega - Solitude Standing

What's so great about Fridays anyway? Everyone gets so jazzed about Fridays and weekends. Well, I get jazzed about Tuesdays at 3:02, both a.m. and p.m. More like, TGITATOT, I say. Thank God It's Tuesday at Three-Oh-Two. I usually just take a sip of lukewarm water and let loose for a few seconds. Speaking of which, how good is lukewarm water? It doesn't get the attention it deserves as a beverage. To expertly prepare a glass of lukewarm water, put a cup of water in the microwave for 19 seconds, then let it cool for about 3 minutes. If you start at 2:58, it should be perfect right about 3:02. For best results, finish before 3:16. After that, the "luke" is lost and it's just warm water. Gross!

I've been staring at the screen for over 6 hours since I typed that last line up there. Just trying to think of something to type. And then I thought of writing about how long I had been staring at the screen. I counted all the pixels on my monitor. 1280 by 1024 is correct. At first I thought it was off by 9 pixels, but when I recounted they were all there. All 1310720 of 'em.

posted at 8:15am
current mood: stalwart
current tunes: Bonnie "Prince" Billy - I See A Darkness

It's been raining a lot lately. If I were an only child, that would be a good thing. Just me, my journal, and a few unscented candles. Colored but unscented. Scented candles have always seemed unnatural to me. It's insulting to candle-kind to have those perfumey clones walking around, scenting things up. And where does all this leave poor incense? Besides all over Marzipan's house I mean?

But I digress, back to the topic at hand. Rain. Rain would be great if I didn't have my brothers Low-Brow and No-Brow constantly trying to ruin my dreary day parade. I remember a particular event they held called "Bringin' the Rain Back 2 Tha Peeps!" in which a contraption was rigged up to funnel rain in through my window and over my bed where I had previously been enjoying a wonderfully lonely rain nap (or 'wet nap' as I sometimes call them). As you can probably imagine, the 'peeps' were not impressed.

I AM excited about my bi-, sometimes tri-, monthly ritual of taking my journal out into the rain and writing poems as the ink bleeds down the page and becomes illegible. I see it as a sort of sacrifice by giving a very personal part of myself to the rain. That, and the pneumonia I always seem to get.

posted at 2:19pm
current mood: still alive.
current tunes: Tom Waits - The Black Rider

So, here are I am again. Not quite a year since my last update. I checked the site stats for my blog, and in the 349 days of dormancy, my blog had 4.2 visitors. And only three of them were me. I bet Homsar is the .2 of a person. I wonder who that other person was. Oh, I guess Homsar could've checked it out 6 times. That's probably it.

I recently sat on a tree stump. That's a real rush. If you've never done it, give it a shot. It's the kind of thing you see in stories a lot, but don't actually get to do very often. I had to stand up after a few hours because it was so intense. I'm also pretty excited about trying to hibernate this winter.

I see no reason to not type the alphabet:
AaBbCcDdEeFfGgHhIiJjKkLlMmNnOoPpQqRrSsTtUuVvWwXxYyZz

posted at 6:54am
current mood: zonked.
current tunes: Mr. Mom - Original Motion Picture Soundtrack

I grilled up some zucchini last night and, oh man, that was a good meal. Grilling vegetables by oneself on a George Foreman grill outside by the trashcans can be the most pleasant of dining experiences. It's like I always say, "Food should be consumed in the most depressing way possible." In other news, I have recently discovered that I can't jump.Gravity works real good on me.

posted at 7:15am
current mood: whimsically whistful
current tunes: Bowie at the Beeb - Five Years

I think if I grew up in the late 18th century, I would have made sure Johnny Appleseed and I were best friends. What a freakin weirdo, right? Wore a pot on his head and planted apple trees everywhere. There's no way that guy had any friends. He'd have no choice but to make me his best. I would have worn a washboard 'round my neck and overalls and been his right hand man: Saddy Dumpington.

We'd crisscross this great nation of ours, he planting apple trees and me rapping out songs of the day on my washboard for the townsfolk in exchange for table scraps. Songs like, um, 'Yankee Doodle' or maybe 'Skip to my Lu.' I'm not sure if those were around then, though. Or if they'd sound like anything other than 'SCRRREENK SCRUNK, SCRRRENK, SCRUNK!' on a washboard.

Jeez, my job woulda been way harder than his. Ungrateful hippie. Nothing but chuckin' seeds and getting all the girls for Appleseed while Saddy picks up the slack and keeps food on the table.

Forget Johnny Appleseed. I'll take my washboard and jam with Francis Scott Key instead. That guy knew how to party. Orchestrally.

posted at 12:01am
current mood: more humbled than usual
current tunes: my own remix - The writings of Gregor Mendel read over some old Brian Eno stuff

Why I am cursed with being the guy that always sees the saddest and most pathetic little snippets of other peoples' lives? Does anybody else have this problem? Like today, I was at a thrift store and I happened to look over just as this old lady walked right into a window that I guess she thought was a doorway. And she was going at a pretty good clip for a woman her age, too. She left a big faceprint on the glass and broke her bifocals and dropped a bunch of gross napkins she was carrying. And if that wasn't bad enough, then she looks over and sees me looking at her and goes, 'I'm sorry, Cambridge, will you shut off this force shield?' I couldn't take it so I ran away.

Right into a window that I guess I thought was a doorway. Or rather, right THROUGH a window that I thought was a doorway.

Now I'm banned from 'Soiled Bargains.' It's cool though. I kinda don't wear clothes.

posted at 9:38am
current mood: brissly
current tunes: Peter Murphy - Holy Smoke

Okay, okay, okay. Let's be honest. My feet look like elephant feet --- BUT THEY ARE NOT!!! They're called soolnds. Let's review: elephant = elephant feet; Strong Sad = soolnds. After a little epsom salt bath every night, my soolnds are quite soft and comfy. When I walk on the beach people laugh at me because my footprints are just big, circular indentions in the sand. It's possible that they're laughing at the fact that I wear a hooded sweatshirt when I swim in the ocean. The sun is such an evil thing. I also bring my towel with me into the water so nobody steals it. I hate the beach.

posted at 2:19am
current mood: smarmy
current tunes: Frank Zappa - Uncle Meat

So I forgot the password to my blog a year or so ago and I just remembered it. I had decided to count how many times I blinked yesterday and around 3:14pm I was up to 2,387 when I remembered my password was gray_n_grey584. That jogged my memory because 2,387 reminds me of 584 for some reason. They must be cosmically linked. Is anyone even reading this? A little haiku before I sign off:

Broken slouchiness,
Smiling from outside the spine,
Sit up straight for once.

That's all for now.
I ended up blinking 7,413 times. My record is 11,083.

posted at 3:12pm
current mood: torn
current tunes: Angelo Badalamenti - Twin Peaks Fire Walk With Me Soundtrack

Today I got this e-vite from Homsar. That spells trouble. The last time he invited me to something I had to hug a tree. And it was just the 2 of us but he kept talking about what a great turnout there was. And the only refreshments were chips, mustard, and gravy. Except he called the chips "hot wings."

But at the same time I'm not exactly an invitation-magnet am I? I guess I'll go.

posted at 4:08am
current mood: getting frustrated
current tunes: Godspeed You Black Emperor - I can't tell where one song stops and the next one starts

Ugh! It's 4 am already and I haven't written one poem yet today. If I don't come up with something soon, my poem-count for February will be the lowest ever! I was trying to write something about the crack on my ceiling, but it seemed a little upbeat for my style. Maybe I could write about how no one is ever around to understand how clever I am.

Clever I am? Next to no one.
Undiscovered and soggy.
Look up. Look down. They're around.
Probably laughing. Still, bright, watery.
Listed among the top. Ten.
Nine. Late night. Early morn.
Early mourn. Now I sleep.

posted at 10:38am
current mood: self pitying
current tunes: Butch Willis - I'm the Kitty Cat

I woke up this morning with a Post-it on my face that said, "I am very awesome, got it?" I wonder who that was from. In case any of you are new readers, that would be my brother, Strong Bad. He thinks he is very awesome and also likes Post-its a lot. When I'm done with this entry, I'm going to go fix myself a cup of tea. Then I'll probably start trying to avoid Strong Bad for the rest of the day. Oh, here he is now. If I type real quite, maybe he won't come in here. HJLWHOUISNASNKL?A STUPID!! GUY I AM A STUPID GUY!! HA HA HA!!!!GUIS kljIUS SJ. Okay, I didn't type that. I'll go ahead and leave it, so you guys can have an idea of what I have to put up with.