"if I had a nickel for every damn dime..."

Saturday, June 18, 2005

I want a better place, or just a better way to fall

"I might disintegrate into the thin air if you like,"

Is filling the silence. The television is on... Muted. Don't ask me why. Lethal Weapon 2. I think. "Is that the one with Patsy Kensit?" I inquire of myself. God Damn, I had quite a crush on that woman back in the 80's. She reminds me of someone in my life right now. Hmmmm... Quite a crush indeed. Think I like the one now. Never been much for Hollywood crushes anyway. I look up. The T.V. is still illuminated. The stereo is still playing. I'm the only one here. Solitude. I can hardly stand it. And I long for it. Mel Gibson is getting his ass kicked. Gee, I wonder if he'll win in the end. "I will remember to remember to forget you forgot me." *play by play* Quite exciting. Really.

So what would you like to talk about?

Why am I asking you?

Got it... Ever watched a human being in a fish tank? I did. It's disturbing. That was evident on the face of my youngest. We stood at the Long Beach Aquarium a couple weeks ago. Looking at the "fishes." One of the big tanks. The one with eels and Nemo was being cleaned. From the inside. The woman floated happily in the center of the tank. And she smiled at the little one. And waved. And the little one's face seemed mildly horrified. But she was polite. She shot one half-assed wave back and looked the other direction. I felt it too. Standing in front of an exhibit, with fish, looking at a human being. It may not seem like a big deal, but SHIT, it was weird. Reminiscent of what's stated after "funny" stories: You had to be there.

I look up again. Oooo look, Skinamax is playing soft core.

I hate soft core.

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The Easy Way Out

What Pulp Fiction Character Are You?

Your name alone strikes fear into others; but maybe, just maybe, there's a little vulnerability and weakness beneath that stoic, fierce exterior of yours.

Take the What Pulp Fiction Character Are You? quiz.

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Tuesday, June 14, 2005

Mary Poppins is Hot

God Dammit, I hate when I have ideas, expression, daily weekly monthly shit I wanna say without the precious moments to put it out there. Yeah, we're all busy. Maybe I don't handle being chronically busy so well.

The structures atop the Earth. Playtime sucked from the minds of children immediately after the T.V. powers up. Watching human beings in fish tanks. The sticky hanger tags on gift bags that rip the bag every fucking time you try to remove it. The buoyancy, or lack thereof, of children in a swimming pool.

I do have shit to say.

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Wednesday, June 01, 2005

Got it.

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