when everyone was wearing moustasches and SHORT SHORTS in the 70’s.

tomorrow is the opening for “i am another you”. theatre on the square. 7pm.

I know, I am getting old when:

*I pay attention to my capitalization and make a point to correct it
*I get contacts to “have less barriers between me and (the hypothetical) you since my person has enough barriers as it is”
*I actually execute the leadership skills that were implemented during my B’nai Brith Youth Organization days
*My conversation with a dutiful Christian has actually induced a loss of faith on their end *and they respect my position
*Dinner is ready most nights
*I want to and am making the correct moves to pay off debt outside of student loans

It is a bit scary. As funny as the above may be to me and you both, I think that there are some other problems that coincide with this responsible side of me coming back into play. I really don’t feel like depressing myself by divulging into those details, but know that I hope to correct them. They are not life-threatening, or homicidal so you have no legal obligations here.

the forsaken pariah

I understand how the sound of the typewriter could be a ceremonial sound of completion.

i cannot believe that jeremy blake is dead. one of the most influential artists that was capable of moving me every time. july 17th 2007; four days after my birthday this year. and seven days after he found out his wife of twelve years had killed herself. it was ruled a suicide (weapon of choice=swim to sea off rockaway beach), but is believed to be a homocide. of course, they were paranoid. of course, tom cruise (not the unicorn) was harrassing them. may i express how he induced wonder in me? may i make this a parallel statment for all of you?

if you would like to partake in the internet of paranoid read her now very famous blog here

august 12th:

on route 231 the corn and soy sound like dogsniffs. we saw the garbage cut open the sky and it bled white. it bled fast.
three meteor showers now that i have witnessed on the banks of the wabash. one:genuine phenomenon two:forced phenomenon three:peaceful phenomenon

this last part is for you. we have icky. she is a dark dark brown cat with 25 toes. i aquired her when a friend said, “oh i know someone who has a hemingway cat (one with opposable thumbs and generally adorable). see, i used to live with one named mortimer (more dumber) and i missed him terribly. well, this cat certainly had extra toes, but she was in other derogatory words: a mutant. so, i named her icky as in “sideshow freak”. my friend told me a joke the other day:

what is brown and sticky?

a stick.

i loved it, but you know how we have a gazillion names for our cats. well, ‘icky’ has these:
icky
ickums
ickumtortomos
*sticky

so, phil, said the joke back to me later as this:

what is brown and sticky?

sticky.

i died. with laughter.