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Do Do Wap is Strong in Here

Tuesday, February 22, 2005

Take the Guess Work out of Hanging a Towel Rack 

i'm stuck at a library out in the suburbials. i came all the way out here to vacuum a floor.

i got my regulation size officially sanctioned canadian ninja hat from two real live free-range canadians. those canadians and their ninja activities. my ninja hat comes equipped with accomodations for a hard hat, so i'm pretty pumped to find some alone time at work when i can stuff a hard hat down my pants and sneak out the back door. i wish i was wearing my ninja hat right now. i accidentally got glitter on it, so now i'm kind of a "fabulous" canadian ninja, but sometimes that's just how we canadians run our shit. one of my fellow canadians wants to walk into a convenience store wearing our ninja hats, but i don't think that idea's so hot. i'd rather just sport it around the neighborhhod, or run around the house with the hat on and nothing else, kitchen utensils velcroed into the hard hat straps.

my bus driver today had 9 1/2 fingers, it was riveting. it made me think of a cantankerous cashier at a super america i used to frequent who had ten fingers, and then a dangly little nub with a nail embedded in it. and that got me thinking 'hey, wouldn't it be great if those two guys had some way of getting together and sorting out eachother's nubs? like a hotline or something where they could set everything up, like who would do the slicing and the sewing, all the sundry details like that? they'd probably even form a lifelong bond, and have a little routine they put together for dinner parties, like the extra nub guy would rub his temples like he was in deep concentration, and the 9 1/2 guy would start waving his hand around and yelling "woah, man! i can't control it! somethin's got my finger in some kind of voodoo mind lock man!" and i think that's what it's really all about, deep underneath the noise and the rot and the tedium of life. some people are missin a little nub somewhere, and some people got little danglies, and we just gotta trade up.

peetq@hotmail.com
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Thursday, February 17, 2005

There are No Words 

  • holy effing jeezis


  • peetq@hotmail.com
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    Tuesday, February 15, 2005

    Chu! Chu! Chu! 

    i ain't did shit in about a minute, that's why ain't shit been goin' on up here.

    i keep walking into the same stores and staring at the same crap i can't buy. i would be indulging some weird whims if money weren't an issue. i flipped through photography books by arbus and "weegee", looked at a howlin' wolf biography, a book about the places dillinger frequented in st. paul, a book about minnesota prisons around the turn of the 20th century, and a book about the legendary blues story of a pimp named stack lee, or sometimes stagger lee or stack-o-lee. but i don't got no money, so i just got irked is all. i licked my psychic wounds with a chocolate covered tongue, walked to the ding dang bus stop and sat on a cold ass bus bench until the bus came to hasten me toward home. no swass marks when the bench is cold, you know.

    anyway, if you havent plucked your eyeballs out with a melon baller yet on account a cause this particular entry is so putrid, part two of the post has been comissioned by a certain lady stuck out in michigan at some bass-ackwards school where you go straight to hell if you don't maintain a 3.5 gpa or something like that. a certain lady who will do karate on you and kick your testicles off, even if you're not a dude and don't got testicles. she understands that kids are always cooler than boring ass tired old pissed off grown folk, and she puts up with o-drawers, which is also commendable. we are both getting tired of school. we bridge the gap across time zones in solidarity strengthened by our mutual burnted outedness. lessee, what else... long hair? what'd i miss... anything? well, her name is jess and she will judo chop me in the junk if i don't mention her name, but i probably would have eventually anyway.

    peetq@hotmail.com
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