Tuesday, July 12, 2005

More New Friends



Tonight I bantered with a lovely inflatable family. I got to finagle with them and smile broadly over flaky foodstuffs. It was the time of inversions and puffs, of potent angels of the spirit in the core of everything.

The relicshack/hotbox/mousetrap has rendered trees to me tonight. I am becoming old-fashioned and woods-oriented - except that all landscape elements are animated with the swells and fissures of skin, the clotting of arterial networks. I think of portly hussies with dripping folds and realize much satisfaction with bumpy terrain. Yes to texture and cheez-wiz style flesh that bounces back upon touch and poke.

Reality recedes, I am becoming synthetic to myself, the hairs of head and body turn to skyward holes. Sense is leaving me. Negation is stewing in the upright back. I will try to find true content in the frisbee of tomorrow. Night night.

30 comments:

Anonymous said...

Puffy family equals generous family. Good luck finding content.

Anonymous said...

Breathe more deeply with plantlife. Soothe yourself by patting their cheeks.

Anonymous said...

Content will never be found in me or on me or elsewhere. You are bound to lack of fruition. Your smelling salts are under the bed.

Anonymous said...

The worst mistakes are made by finagling and not sleeping. Careful you don't become pregnant with rodent nuggets.

Mountain Man said...

I am definitely pregnant with the nuggets. I am producing fire without breath. My head is stuffed like a chicken but without thought, only lack of room for thought.

sloth said...

Congratulations on your cranial pregnancy, Mountain Man. Administer the small shocks for health, for that healthy glow. The nuggets must be allowed to pass freely, or they will become petrified. Jiggle your head; toss it in the air like a baby.

Mountain Man said...

Correction, my chickenhead has room enough for one thought which is hazy but leading me to the showers.

Mountain Man said...

My brother Bobo and his wife Chichi have given birth to an actual baby. It happened over the weekend. I believe my cranial pregnancy of rodent nuggets is in excited sympathy with their momentous occasion. He is the cutest actual baby I have ever seen.

Mountain Man said...

Sloth! Hi!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You are very smart.

sloth said...

Mountain Uncle! What a lucky tot. What is the niblet's name?

sloth said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
sloth said...

Slothy must engage in serious battle today. It will require strength and cunning, which are not Sloth's strong points. Potions are being administered for clear thinking.

Mountain Man said...

What kind of battle Sloth? Are you well-girded and armor-covered? I wish you the best. You are a wily opponent. I am ready for back up should you require it.

sloth said...

It is a battle against professional manipulators. Sloth must go at them with implements. Thanks for the wishes, MM.

Mountain Man said...

Make them do what you wish with mind-melding, Sloth. You can.

fairy butler said...

Baby nugget niblets!!! Woweeeeee!!!! I am wishing many magical, multi-dimensional blessings and calming vibes in the direction of our nation's capitol.

Mountain Man said...

Yes, here's to Bobo and Chichi in the heart of calm.

Anonymous said...

Where did this family get their puffs? I am unsure how to get this way without surgery.

Anonymous said...

i can't wait to eat some bread dough later... puffy crescent rolls, sponge cake

Anonymous said...

Fifi, I believe it is relatively easy to catch a case of the puffs.

Anonymous said...

Sloth, I have my flail at the ready should duty call.

Anonymous said...

Congrats on uncledom Mountain Man. It will be fun. You'd better get the Candyland ready for action.

Anonymous said...

After much consideration with Chichi, we have decided against naming our hamsterdancing bundle of squeaks Master Mouse. This name only barely beat out the two runners-up:

1) Mister Peanut (on accounta his peanut-buttery diaper gifts);

OR

2) Ted Baxter The Anal Blaster (because he is flatulent and I believe one day he will wear large white clogs and yell at Mary Tyler Moore).

I sincerely hope this meets with Mountain Man's approval. If not, I fear he will dip the little shaver into some honey and leave him in the woods.

Anonymous said...

For the sake of clarity (Bobo does not sleep any longer; for all his moments are now spent cataloguing Master Mouse's facial expressions, peeps, squeaks, and other sundry folderol), Mountain Man's nephew is Master Mouse.

Anonymous said...

cool y'all. but I eat hamsters.

Anonymous said...

That's okay, I eat kitten revenge fantasies.

And Chichi eats lightning and craps thunder.

Anonymous said...

BOBO! HEEL!

Mountain Man said...

Bobo, thank you for finding a minute to tell of Master Mouse and his infantile ideations. I cannot wait for him to reveal himself to us. You are a delightful brother Bobo and Chichi is a force to be reckoned with.

Mountain Man said...

Master Mouse I am dreaming of your cute face which I will poke lightly when I behold you for the first time. Do not fear me, I am Uncle MM, a gentle giant.

fairy butler said...

MM, be sure to wear the hammer pants when you visit Master Mouse. You don't want to scare the little one with your goat legs and appendages, etc. It is better to be loose, baggy and comfortable.