Back to Diaryland 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	2002-03-08 ... 9:34 a.m. I think of the mountain of dead kittens I have caused and I sob. I'm sorry! Have you read The Gilded Bat? It is one of my favorites. I'll never forget the line, "Maudie was only five when she was discovered gazing at a dead bird by Madame Trepidovska." (Does that remind you of anyone you know?) This book is also out of print (surprisingly, given the general public's renewed interest in all things Gorey), and hard to find...so if anyone serendipitously locates a copy that's like thirty bucks or less (I'm a reader, not a collector), please let me know. Every morning this week I have turned the corner just in time to see a bus pull away. When that happens, in my head I've been singing this song with "miss the bus" substituted for "write the book." Or then there's always "I Missed the Bus" by 1980s child rap stars Kris Kross. Remember them? With the backwards pants? I wonder if those guys still talk to each other. QUOTATIONS FROM MY DAY YESTERDAY, PRESENTED IN RANDOM ORDER (seriously, I rolled dice and everything) AND WITH NO CONTEXT AND THUS FORMING A SORT OF ANTI-NARRATIVE (fear my phat postmodern flow!): I'm selling crotch insurance. Will you stop DOMINATING me? You look like a terrorist. [chanting] dead babies dead babies dead babies dead babies.... It's like a leather frog with wings! Here comes a loud zipper. We had unknowingly stumbled on the Rat Playground. Al Gore is a Chinese robot. Oooh, cashmere! I was so drunk I think I invited her over for steak. Darkness! Imprisoning me! All that I see! Is absolute horror! Don't give me another reason to stab you. You call that a skyline? That's no skyline. That's no skyline whatsoever. Huge tumor! On that pigeon! It's like Costco, only with vibrators and anal beads. THINGS I NEED TO LEARN HOW TO DO, AS SOON AS POSSIBLE: breakdance, play the accordion, whistle for a taxi, open a beer bottle with my teeth, roll a better joint (my skills have weakened), raise one eyebrow, tap dance, play barrelhouse piano, speak every language, put on makeup like a real adult woman (I have but three makeup modes: none, half-assed but better than nothing [for work], and Seriously Gothed Out), skateboard, drive a bulldozer, sew a button on, make gnocchi, and calm the fuck down. I had a fun time last night, drinking beer and talking a lot. The jukebox at Gold Star Bar comes highly recommended: an interesting mix of 1980s goth (Bauhaus, Sisters of Mercy, etc) and country music (vaguely goth country music, like Hank Williams and Johnny Cash). Kat and I left at just the right time, though. I wasn't tipsy but I was at that point when going to the bathroom is kind of fun and having another drink sounds like an excellent idea. On weeknights, I think that bartenders should periodically hold up a large posterboard sign that says REMEMBER: TODAY IS THURSDAY or whatever. Beefalo! Beefalo beefalo beefalo! ---mimi smartypants is at a forty-five degree angle and facing northeast. back/forward