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the latest
waddle: good morning, wordpress - 10:36 a.m. , 2009-07-03 elaborate murder attempt - 2:56 p.m. , 2009-07-01 building a tractor in the basement - 10:42 a.m. , 2009-06-19 ask no questions tell just a few lies - 3:17 p.m. , 2009-06-09 my long lasting flavor really lasts long - 1:10 p.m. , 2009-06-04
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Is it okay with you if I temporarily use this here web page (Whoo! That Mimi is one hot and sexy metafictional chick! Stepping out from behind her authorial curtain to remind you how excessively mediated our communication is! As if you didn't know that already, you are not some kind of moron! Hot and sexy metafictional chick or no, her [my] little parade of cleverness grows ever more tiresome! Hey, where are you going?) Start again. Is it okay with you if I temporarily use this here web page not as a place of entertainment or day-to-day documentation but instead as a place to extend the jotted-down silliness from the paper notebook? Thanks. PERFORMANCE PIECE IDEA Dark stage. Laurie Anderson voiceover, coming from nowhere, describing how she comes home from shopping one day and finds her husband, Lou Reed, being sexually assaulted by Salt-N-Pepa. All three of them want to tie up Lou Reed and use them for sweaty raunchy amphetamine sex purposes. Lou, in black leather and mirrored sunglasses, shows no reaction. One of the three members of Salt-N-Pepa holds Laurie Anderson at bay with a hunting knife (Laurie describes her terror with amused detachment, just as she describes everything) while the other two set about tying Lou Reed to an Eames chair. Pause. Laurie Anderson: I know what you are thinking. How is it possible to tie someone to an Eames chair? (longer pause.) Well. Salt-N-Pepa had come prepared. OTHER PERFORMANCE PIECE IDEA I bake a bunch of cupcakes. With frosting. Then we leave them at places that are at or below sea level. We call it "Cupcakes In Low Places." MONDAY MONDAY MONDAY Things are difficult today. I got up and went back to bed repeatedly, starting at four in the morning and continuing until six. Then I finally got dressed and lay in bed whining to LT about how very much I did not want to go to work. Maybe (maybe? oh, definitely) it is last night's beer, but I am very spacy today and my speech patterns are odd too. I made LT giggle from his PRIVILEGED POSITION, STILL IN BED (the glory of the work-from-home spouse is that he fattens me up daily with his home cooking; the agony of the work-from-home spouse is that every damn day I feel cranky to see him all warm under the comforter as I am suffering out here in Morning World). As I hunted for work clothing in the dark I said out loud to myself: "Are these socks compatible?" (They seem fairly compatible so far: no fights, no arguments.) THIS JOB SITE HAS GONE ZERO DAYS WITHOUT A LOST-TIME RIDICULOUS MISHAP Thus far today, I have managed to: a. Jab myself in the face with a manila file folder, and you would not think a manila file folder was some sort of deadly ninja weapon but it seriously left a weird little scratch on my face. I am disfigured, I am the Phantom Of The Filing System; boo. b. Trip coming out of the elevator and had to do several rather spectacular pirouettes to keep from getting a faceful of industrial gray carpet. c. Accidentally say "Plaid Thai" instead of "Pad Thai" to a waiter at lunchtime. Ska noodles! Other than the fact that it terminated in Monday, my weekend was splendid. Since I am hot for the list format, we will do the following. My weekend featured: 1. Purple tulips. WHAT SORT OF PENIS ARE YOU LOOKING FOR, TODAY? (various penis-related search referrals that found my page) 1. Incredible Hulk penis Disclaimer: I am not so much a Bukowski fan, which I am not going to justify to you right now because those people who are Bukowski fans tend to get really screamy and weird when you diss their idol, as I found out to my detriment when I made a flip remark on a literature listserv thingy years ago. That said, because I am all fragile today and unable to deal well with the telephone, and because unfortunately said telephone has been ringing all damn day, I was reminded of this wonderful outgoing answering machine message from the book Bukowski book Hollywood, which I had on my own answering machine years ago and am seriously considering recording on the voice mail for today:
DO NOT SPEAK TO ME. SPEAK TO THIS MACHINE. I DO NOT WISH TO SPEAK. SPEAK TO THIS MACHINE. I AM NOWHERE AND YOU ARE ALSO NOWHERE. DEATH COMES WITH HIS TINY HANDS TO GRIP US. I DO NOT WISH TO SPEAK. SPEAK TO THIS MACHINE [beep] Do you have White Hens where you are? Have you noticed that White Hen is sort of grandfathering in a new color scheme, and that all new White Hens are blue and yellow instead of orange and brown? And just when the orange and brown was starting to look really cool in a retro 1970s way. I am bummed. ---mimi smartypants is your one-stop noncontextualization shop. back/forward |
