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Do Do Wap is Strong in Here

Monday, May 31, 2004

I Control the Itching Without Drowsiness 

oh my snap!! a current and former farmer dip they toes in the blogging cesspool! jacob donald's is linked now, and as soon as the quade's blog stops making the computer freeze and actually load, i can link that one too. right now, even though i stink like salmon and my teeth are hairy, i'm getting out of the house so i don't start moping and grousing about some poop and junk.


Thursday, May 27, 2004


i wanted to post something about this amazing kid who totally reaffirms and strengthens my reasons behind wanting to do what i'm doing with my life. i'm not sure how this started, but a few days ago some of the kids were talking in a corner during free time, and one of them, a girl named Ari, started crying. i asked her why, and she said it was because someone told her that sometimes homeless people have to resort to finding food in the garbage. i had heard her say things a few times about how all people can get along no matter what you look like and things like that,and i never doubted that she believed what she was saying, but i always figured it was stuff she'd heard and repeated. but this level of natural ingrained compassion couldn't be drummed in by rote or recitation, this was really coming from an honest gut reaction. it just made me recall that a major intent for me is to try and make sure a huge heart like that is reinforced and given alot of value before it gets shit on by a fucked up culture that tries to wedge you into some dismal career path and only cares what you're going to do with your next paycheck. tomorrow is ari's last day, because she's moving out of the district, and i've been thinking alot lately about her and what we talked about.


I Been Plowed Down by the Poop-Poop Door 

i made a poop because of this friggin gorgeous new album i got in the mail today. the band is called "the instruments" and the album is "billions of phonographs". they are connected to the elephant 6 collective, which includes neutral milk hotel, olivia tremor control, apples in stereo, elf power, major organ, circulatory system, the gerbils, etc, etc... it's all sad, dreamy, night driving type songs with odd arrangements and sounds. they play things like cello, bassoon, theremin, accordion, singing saw, and mellophone. even the syrupy calypso song is good. it just made me turd is all i'm saying.


Tuesday, May 25, 2004

Tom Arnold is the Most Talented Man in the Universe 

while taking the kids to their art class today, i noticed a long, narrow hallway i'd never seen before in a corner of the basement. the idea of whatever might be down that hallway chewed on my head until i had time to explore during my lunch break. i walked in and saw cryptically labeled boxes stacked against the walls, and a huge dark storage area with some kind of cloud mural against the far wall. there was a small office with a few people in it whom i'd never seen before, and people in green aprons carying crates around. it was like some secret society living in the catacombs of the building, plotting something sinister. i kept walking into rooms inside rooms. there was a woodshop type area with sanders and bandsaws, etc, rickety iron staircases, and then at the end, a giant, ancient batman villain boiler room with huge dusty dials and meters hanging off of archaic ducts and whirring monstrous machine bellies. i kept either hearing or conjuring footsteps, so i lost my nerve and walked back to the teacher's lounge. i've been in that school for a year now, and i had no idea that this whole other place existed right under me the whole time. i'm going back tomorrow, dammit, and this time i'm not getting scared off by freddie krueger or the ghost of some janitor crushed by an out of control floor buffer.

also, while waiting for a bus home from movie night tonight, i actually saw bats in the belfry of the basillica. but not just a few, at least ten bats were swooping and careening around the bell tower in wide constellations, casting creepy shadows on the walls of the church. it's been an odd, ominous day. now i have to go dream about undead janitors and clouds of bats.


Sunday, May 23, 2004

Arena Football 

hullo. meandering through the house doing mundane domestic crap. laundry, dishes, cleaning. no five year olds around to dump effusive affections on. ho hum. i think the rain may have finally let up. that means i can go get a sammich and take a bus uptown to see that movie. doodleee-doo, wee-waah... two weeks of elementary school left. i don't want it to end. getting up at quarter to six in the morning has never been so bearable.

time to try to get the hell out of the house.


Saturday, May 22, 2004


aaawwwkayy... the week in review, since i haven't been by here in awhile. monday night, i saw the raging monoliths and purveyors of all things hard-ass-core, clutch, at first ave. more jittery and bizzarre mannerisms by the singer, neil, and enormous lumps of fownk from the band as a whole.

probably partly due to te concert, and mostly because of this asshole cold i've had for over a week now, i had to call in sick to both places of work (the school and the farm) and stay in friggin bed all day tuesday downing pills and hocking up balls of loog, glistening like emerald agates, all over my bedroom.

today i went to a carnival at the elementary school, just wandered around looking for people from my classroom and meeting their families. three year old kids waddling around with disintegrating tufts of cotton candy in their hands, a cake walk room, face paint, hot dogs, all manner of whatnot. i also squeezed in a couple of naps, choked down some generic robitussin, and sat around old chicago watching tore up timberwolves fans buy pizza from danielona.

right now it's lo mein and yo-j time, then tomorrow my friend dylan gets hitched, and mebbe i can go see the movie "the saddest music in the world" at the lagoon. a legless beer baroness, played by isabella rosalini, searches the world for the saddest song. her father makes her some new glass legs filled with beer. it's shot in old film noir style, in black and white with vaseline around the edge of the camera lens.


Sunday, May 16, 2004

Free to Be You and Me 

i'm all doped up, dammit! it's a frenzied snotrag evening! i want to make a deathmetal/gangsta rap mix tape! cannibal corpse followed by too $hort followed by deicide followed by ghetto boys followed by pungent stench!! i have to! there's only so much tea and losenges i can swallow before all i hear is a floating chorus of cookie monster vocals and drum machines! all we are is skin and fluids and electricity and vapors!


Saturday, May 15, 2004

Pocket Squah 

last nite, went to some drive in theater practically in wisconsin with the ebulient and gregarious sarah. i know she was trying to abduct me and keep me hidden somewhere in stillwater or madison, but i thwarted that shit. something about "look at that 'hot weather balloon' over there" conveniently placed near the freeway exit to the theater, distracting me so i wouldnt realize we missed our turnoff, so we had to go five miles down the road and five miles back to get to the place. she stocked up on a cooler full of things i was physically incapable of swallowing. still, the effort was not lost on my addled brain. we enjoyed some cheeseburgers, drank some yo-j, stuck our tongues out and made faces at some young'uns in the car next to us, and then gave them some of the yo-j bottles. i was eating ice cubes and ice cream trying to keep from wincing everytime i swallowed. i documented the night in a photo booth which was inside the concessions building. we saw van helsing, which was cheeseball but good, and then "walking tall" a movie about the rock hitting things with a 2 x 4, which was godawful, but enjoyable in the context of the evening. i'm not sure how coherent this is, because i've been pumping myself full of tea and throat losenges and chloraseptic for two days, and i feel a little like a swollen bullfrog. my actions and concious processing of the actions seem about a half second off. yeah, i'm going back to bed.


Thursday, May 13, 2004


well it was inevitable, i guess. tread water long enough in the river of phlegm that is a room full of five year olds and you're bound to end up with some kind of screwed up congestive problem. you could freebase vitamin c all day long and not evade it. now i feel like i've got a cue ball in my throat, and my head is made of papier mache. and of course i'm up in the middle of the damn night again, gaw demmit. i need something worthwhile and interesting to fill the time between kindergarten and a reasonal bedtime. dig dug aint cutting it no more, and reading knocks me out in half an hour. maybe an ambling afternoon constitutional. arright, staring at the computer is just making my condition worse. if someone were babbling like this on the street, you'd start running.


Wednesday, May 12, 2004

Two Plush Wool Aeroplanes Melted Together at the Wing 

had a luch for volunteers at lincoln today, and i met a badass 97 year old woman everyone calls grandma vera. she comes to a first grade class every week and tells stories and gives everybody hugs and the like. she told us about teaching and travelling, and her upcoming 75th college reunion. then she talked shit about george bush, and my heart melted. grandma vera is the shit. she's more active and energetic than most 40 year olds. old folks know what time it is. almost sort of a reversion to a childlike honesty or lack of inhibitions and self restraint, except coming from a "well i'll be dead soon anyway" mindset rather than curiosity or naivete.

well i'm in the computer lab again. i had to come back to the mctc one last time before summer session for a meeting and mundane miscelania, and i really want to get the hell out of here now.


Tuesday, May 11, 2004

Shoe Museum 

i sleep alot. woke up feeling disjointed and stumbled out of my stinky room into a quiet, dark, empty house. i think i want a sammich. where is everybody? i do this all the damn time. fall asleep in the middle of the day, then wake up at eleven, and i can't get back to sleep until 2 a.m., an' then i'm falling asleep all day long. sunnova bastard.

guess who gets to go on a field trip to a petting zoo on friday? i'm gonna pet a moocow, and feed a goat, and talk to the aminils and walk with the aminils and smell the aminils and say stuff like "no anthony, that's not for eating".

been thinking a little on how i look forward to some routines, and how things like the weekly kickball games a couple years ago provided a stability for a short while that i couldn't scrape together for myself at the time. i remember in high school kind of associating routines with conformity or complacency or being broken, but i'm growed up now, and not everything is a threat to my sanctity or purity or humanity or something like that. i'm looking forward to movie night is all i'm sayin'.

not exactly verbose this evenin'. i'm really just updating so i can add a link to a new blog by keegan. at least i'm pretty sure that's keegan, a frequent movie night patron and schoolmate of danielona and sarah's. i'm going to go roll around in my bed until 3 am now.


Sunday, May 09, 2004

Eleven Beleven 

well. i dunno where i've been all week. the semester's basically over so i haven't really been busy. movie night, lolling around, working, frolfin', playing dig-dug so much that when i close my eyes i see a little man digging holes and blowing up dragons.

whenever i think of school being out, i think of my third grade play. it was called "it's a super duper year" or something like that. it was a musical with a different song for every month. i was in september. it was a song about the school bus being late, and how that was ok, because riding a schoolbus was so much fun. some of the highschool peeps might remember eric streed. he was in january and november. he told the teacher he could breakdance and rap, so he got to do the brand new year rap for january. anybody know where the hell eric streed is these days? we took the show on the road, did the nursing home circuit. i remember being so exited to learn the sign language for "wrestling" from a woman at one of the nursing homes.

my elementary school was a little strange. there were no walls between classrooms, just giant rolling feltboard dividers. there was a giant fountain in the middle somewhere. each class had their own mini lunchroom. there were little secret cylinrical rooms off to the side of every class. i got locked in one of them until i could tie my shoes, or at least thats how the memory has formed in my head. there was some math specialist that came around to everyones class who was shorter than all the second graders. i had a substitute in second grade that i still remember. her name was ms. mcgee. she had two fingers on one hand, and she called one of the kids a fatso. i hid behind the teachers desk with my friend jamal that whole day.

ah olden days, golden days. bleh. right now i've got to work on not stinking so much, then go do some laundry and eat everything my parents have in their fridge.


Monday, May 03, 2004


partial listing of the contents of my bag...

--the book "double duce" by aaron cometbus
--the cd "escondida" by jolie holland
--"the complete sherlock holmes" by sir arthur conan doyle - found by a drainage grate on the loading dock at my work
--a rebus poster detailing the steps involved in making a peanut butter apple sandwich
a. get one apple
b. cut the apple
c. put some peanut butter on some bread
d. add the sliced apples and EAT IT
--a lionel ritchie album, ironicaly titled "can't slow down", because he's sitting in a chair on the cover, minus the actual vinyl. proffered to me by daniel damocles because of the fucking hilarious picture on the inside gatefold, depicting lionel in mid leap or swing, legs splayed, enormous hotcha grin, and grasping some firefighter's pole thing
--a resumé
--a postcard promoting an art show of the paintings of margo seleski at the art institute downtown. victorian looking people with rooster bodies. beeswax added to the canvases to give them an ancient cracked look.
--a pencil sharpener


Sunday, May 02, 2004

Bags of Bortsch 

while im sitting here, i feel like typing up the first part of something i finally managed to poot out into my ratty little journal.

so i found my mind and wouldn't you know, it's right where i left it, in a kindergarten class, on a shelf right behind the duplos. some kid almost used it to finish off his robot, but i got there just in time to save it from his mucousy grasp. i put it in my shirt pocket and went over to the play-doh table, where the action is. we were having cookies again. marshmallow and cod cookies or some variation thereof. nummers!

i was enjoying my big pink car shaped cookie, diloguing about animals, candy, and 21st century dystopian entropy when i was struck on the back of my neck by a plastic hotdog from the restaraunt area. turning slowly, i caught sight of the red streak of a dinner plate just in time to lean out of the way and allow the plate to bounce off of a little asian girls forehead and into her lap. she was more startled than hurt and just sort of stared at the table as if to say "another day, another plastic plate to the head."

yes, so thats my first foray back into actually using my journal. in part three, i end up wrestling with wilford brimley's moustache. it sounds better than it actually turned out, but at least i'm using the damn thing.


Saturday, May 01, 2004

Hair Bath 

i cant think of a goddamn thing i feel like posting.

an older african guy came up to me today while i was sitting in the purple onion, asked me what i was reading, if i write, and then pulled a giant three ring binder out of his backpack stuffed with four hundred pages of wierd poetry and partially fabricated dialogues that allways ended up twisting around to some fixated theology babble. it wasnt exactly babble though, it just seemed that way after 350 pages of essentialy the same thing. he would ask me if the english was coherent and then shoot into a diatribe about everything that was in the binder. i think i've seen him in there before, in the corner singing to himself. he seems extemely inteligent, if a little (or a lot) loopy, and reading some of that stuff made me feel a little lazy and stupid. it didn't have too much coherence or clarity, but he has an earnestness and dilligence i feel i'm usually lacking. of course then again people who save and name thier boogers have earnestness and dilligence too, but this guy wasn't quite that crazy, i don't think. i was also not feeling too social, and some stranger jumping into the booth across from me and dumping this thing in my lap was exremely disconcerting and awkward. this was all bookended by some distracted wandering through stadium village and dinkytown, so another odd and mildly doleful day.


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