running low on blog creative juices. the skin has been shed. the brain exists in a floaty space tugging the keyboard along the city streets. we make sure to avoid the piles and mystery juices on our way to the shack. inside my brain is a space for my cell phone and cashews, some peel n' eats, some airplane liquor. no, i am not trying to type -. i can do that with my willpower, but i do need to use my frontal lobe wing to physically drag my being around. i have no need for clothes, special tingly parts, nothing. I am part spockian now, part plastic, part wires, part borg. there is one large green eye that lights up the moon and parts the heavens from which rain down a bushel of beer nuts. it is them that i gobble, remembering to press control-3 to swallow. i injest liquid rain from the atmosphere. I sleep in a hamper.
I am well wishing for krixie today with the interviews and would like to thank her for lighting the flame of job change in the FB. I feel strong and hopeful. The internets tell of many things for a nobleman brainstem such as myself and the direness seems lighter - the oppression less strong. if the relic will not provide justice perhaps a career, or something??
14 comments:
I share your pain fb.
My rice has long since dried out.
My beans are cooling into a mucky goo.
What little lettuce I have has wilted and browned.
Even my sour cream, My Sour Cream!, the center of my being, is turning...
Perhaps my flour tortilla is softer that most, letting in the negativity and hurt.
But I was made for immediate consumption, not to have my goodies wasted...
...the horror...
http://www.chocolatefantasies.com/adultfoodfun.htm
I'm getting the "Lets F*ck" lollies.
my bicycle has a flat tire and i don't have a pump. i walk everywhere. my legs are tired.
my boss is on work release.
Hi guys. It's better to hide and turn inward, is my feeling, in spite of the wilted lettuce, in spite of the ebbing brain stem perception. Keep up with the damage and weenie production, it is the only salvation.
BB your ingredients-meditation is very moving.
thanks for the well wishes FB!
FB, there is a region of Log called Mount Clothington. It is a direct reflection of the interior jumble. It is at about 2/3 maximum capacity right now; it's anyone's guess what is at the bottom of this pile. Best not to ask - some things are better left undisturbed.
This is the time of year to really utilize the wormholes and the control buttons... thank you for the beer nuts idea, and the osmosis method of hydration. I will try this out tonight and report back. You are always a font of inspiration, FB!
i drank on the clock today.
p.s. FB, can you really type with your bare brain?
FB FB FB FB I am wanting to be bare brain with you and cycle into the porpoise of drink. Mt. Clothes is nude in anticipation of everything. I am sorry for everyone and stale with disgust and loathing.
Hearts,
MM
I out bursted. I am so hungover it really hurts the pie chart part of my brain. It is at a stand still. Is yours still hopalong?
martin, the drinking on the clock is ok. must be done. for christsakes, it was a saturday!! when I was a waiter i would take order with glass of wine in my hand sometimes. for real. I had a lot of anger and it was the only way.
sloth, mount clothington jr is located due east maybe 3 miles of your log. the epicenter is rich with grimes and bits and the lava is getting ready to fucking burst. richter scale approaching a 100% maximum velocity. speaking of... I watched back to the future on tv yesterday. I had to see the chuck berry guitar solo. PROBS. No relic time. good stuff.
mm, i am shedding my skin in tiny snowflake variatons of scabs. and such. while i work on the carpal tunnel. the wormhole of nothing productive but spending money on food and drink and yapping my head until i bite faces. phfewsh.
my brainstem is like an old turnip today. dried out and craggy. the brain wing movements are slow like a turtle on the sandy beaches looking to lay some eggs.
I love your sentences, FB. Just love them. You are like an amusement park ride.
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