Monday, March 23, 2009

Signed, Sealed, and Delivered?

So here we are again...
Pink nipples and all. A man on vacation. A cancer.
I'd laugh if I had it.
Instead, I get to linger on, and fall victim to lesser crimes.
The wind howls, as do I. A tornado would be nice. Lifted up, carried.
Then dashed. Ragdoll action. I open my arms.
I've been dead for years and years.
This kinda thing would only finalize it.
I may kill this blog soon, or leave it here, not sure. It started harmlessly enough, then I had to make it suck...

Monday, March 02, 2009

Gacy Schmacy...

My day today consisted of many things I had not originally planned on. One of which was setting the microwave on fire at work. It no longer works...
"He broked it!!!"
Au contrere. I did that and more, all of which I will not expound upon, including the drunken antics of one overly thirstatious ferret...
I saw Milk the other day. It was ok, a strong B+ even with Sean Penn playing the same character as he did in I am Sam, just a notch gayer on the scale. Franco is good, but a bit too much grab ass for my tastes...
I also saw the Street Fighter movie, and it was lame. Shun. Shuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuun.
What else...?
I'm seeing Shopaholic tonight, but I can't wait for The Watchmen to come out. That will be amazing. I pine for this...
"He pines..."
He doth.
So work, blah blah blah. Fuckers messing my shit up on a regular basis.
I wonder if this blog will ever be of interest to someone in the far future. Will they wonder what the fuck this strange cowboy was all about?
Ok, the moment has passed. No more prideful wonderings.
It is bizarre to see how my blog has changed. Definitely not evolved but... devolved? Stripped down?
"Ha, minutely comic, perhaps..."
Tragically geh, possibly.
We are our own worst critics. We are the ones who hold ourselves back, from the unknown, from the...
Undead clowns. They want to suck the last bit of marrow from our funny bone, then use that jagged edge to pick lazily at their fangs.
I've been reading up on some things. There is usually some kind of cataclysmic event causing unknown oodles of trauma. Then a calm...
Then the giving up of all those things that hurt, caused pain. You shred them up, then toss them out the window. You abandon hope for awhile, then dig deeply into something.
You become interesting and not so numb anymore eventually. You find people begin flocking once again, wondering how... how... how...?
You then show that one fatal flaw, that event horizon which sends you careening off into the black.
Why, you may ask?
This is what we do. We juggle, we make balloon animals, we let the children tear at us and well...
Fuck our shit up, for lack of better phrasing. We are always in search for treasure.
In this we are doomed.
In this we are doomed.