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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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It is early to think about Halloween, but I think a multicultural Klansman costume would be cool. You could make the pointy hood out of kente cloth and stitch a yarmulke to the top. Wear one of those Africa medallions plus some rainbow beads and a big pink triangle badge. Greet everyone with "Salaam alaikum, my Aryan brothers!" And the chance of running into any real KKK members would be small. I bet they don't think much of Halloween, since it is not about Jesus, and they get enough dressing up during their stupid rallies and such. Speaking of dumb hicks, sometimes you have to wonder if the New York Times is being intentionally cruel with the quotes and attributions they decide to run. When Eric Rudolph was arrested of course it was front-page news. The "person on the street" whom the paper chose to quote spake some run-on sentence-o'-nonsense that went something like this (not an exact quote or a real name, so don't sue my ass): "Well I think that what he did was right in some respects because he's a Christian and I am a Christian and abortion is wrong. I think he's a Christian warrior," said Tiffani Krystal Daniels, 25, mother of four. Hahahahahaha! Good one, New York Times! Zing! Sorry to keep hitting the New York-centric media and writing about it, but I thought it was odd that the latest issue of The New Yorker decided to inform me that Terence Trent D'Arby, of 1980s semi-fame, has changed his name to Sananda Maitreya. The world continues not to care. ONCE UPON A TIME THERE WERE SOME WINDOWS 1. When I was very small my bedroom window looked out onto another apartment building where my best friend lived. We always wanted to rig up some sort of communication device across the gangway but we never did. She had long pigtails with bangs like me, and her mom once shocked me by serving Kraft macaroni and cheese with sliced hot dogs mixed in throughout. 2. In our next house (my only house, since my parents now live in a condo), I had a corner room with unexciting views of the side and back yards. Sometimes there would be the horrible view of our overweight neighbor, a truly despised French teacher at the Catholic high school (terrible things happened to his yard whenever they had Homecoming), performing some shirtless yard work. Have you ever seen grass clippings stuck to fat rolls on a French teacher's sweaty back? Lucky you. 3. One of my college rooms had this tiny suicide-proof sliding window that looked onto a slope of sorts. I hesitate to call it a "hill," but it was relatively steep for the midwestern prairie and good for some minor sledding in the winter. 4. Another college place had a fabulous corner bedroom with six windows. A huge pine tree tapped against one of the windows all night, every night, and during a few mental-health-unfriendly post-midnight hours, stoned on loneliness and unproductive abstract thoughts, I remember opening the window and touching the pine needles, just for the comfort of something actual and organic. A tree is a fact you can learn, like multiplication. 5. I once lived in a room with only one window, but that led out onto a part of the roof that was very nice to sit on. One night, who knows how it started, all the occupants of that house ended up sitting out there naked. There was this beautiful boy named Eric living in town that summer, and he came over that evening and started to crawl out to the roof to join the party, and someone said in warning, "Hey, Eric...we're all naked out here." "Oh, no problem," he said, shucked off all his clothes, and continued through the window. 6. One of my apartments in Hyde Park had only one set of windows in the living room that looked out onto a small shopping plaza across the street. A few weeks after moving in, someone was murdered at the shopping plaza pay phone, the pay phone I had been using to call my mother while Ameritech took their sweet time getting our service connected, and I mistakenly mentioned this to her in a slice-of-life-urban-anecdote way and she was decidedly not amused. 7. In Bahrain my bedroom window looked out onto a vast waste of reclaimed land. Sometimes there were feral dogs trotting around out there. In the distance were palm trees and some mosque minarets, and the winter sunsets were occasionally travel-poster gorgeous, with the sounds of overlapping muezzins calling people to prayer in the background. 8. Another Chicago apartment had a very poorly fitted bedroom window. Terrible drafts blew right in and daylight even could be seen around the cracks. One winter Sunday LT and I woke up to blizzard conditions inside the bedroom and a small snowdrift accumulating on the windowsill and floor. I suppose this could have been construed as ghetto-depressing but it was actually kind of cozy and funny. LT brought me clothes so I could get dressed under the quilts and stay warm and then we had pancakes. 9. There were other apartments but none with remarkable views or window-stories. My current place has nice, basic, rehabbed windows. Last summer the neighbors to the south, visible out our dining room window, cut down some flowering hedges for no reason, which angered LT, so he vowed to walk around naked in front of that window for a whole day in protest and to teach them a lesson that privacy hedges are a good thing. Even though I tried to tell him that the neighbors were probably not making the connection between their yard work and his nudity, he stuck to his plan.
I HAD TOO MUCH TEA LAST NIGHT I went with my comrade to Earwax II, across Milwaukee Avenue in its new location, and it is all bright, clean, and loud. I am not certain I would feel comfortable or justified in hanging out there for four or five hours on a Sunday afternoon. The new place is bustling and turnover seems high, more like a real restaurant than the dark grubby caffeinated hole of yore. The Earl Grey is still good, and the spinach pie was excellent. (In fact it was so excellent that [no offense] I suspect that Earwax does not make them but orders from Sultan's Market like everybody else.) HERE IS WHAT HAPPENS WITH TOO MUCH TEA 1. Why is there no astronaut porn? 2. There should be astronaut porn! 3. Is NASA blocking the production of astronaut porn? Fuck NASA! It is a free country, where we can freely make astronaut porn! 4. I mean, think about it! The whole uniform thing! Like cops! Or auto mechanics! Or soldiers! Those archetypes have their own porn niche, so why not astronauts? 5. And the "squeaky clean virginal military type/scientist is defiled with hot man-on-man action" thing! 6. In Space, No One Can Hear You Ream! 7. Boldly Going Where No Man Has Gone Before! 8. Houston, We Have A Problem. A Sexy Problem! 9. And of course the obvious, "Ass-tronauts"! 10. Words like thrust! Boost! O-rings! Tang! 11. Zero-gravity cumshots and such would be strangely beautiful! 12. There are lots of female astronauts now, so even heterosexuals can get in on the action! 13. Maybe even First Gangbang In Space! Heck why not! 14. Swarthy Russian cosmonauts! OKAY THAT'S ENOUGH BACK AWAY FROM THE KEYBOARD ---mimi smartypants, the Force is with her. back/forward |
