Wednesday, August 03, 2005
Cuddles
I miss my cuddly bucket of squish, Mr. Pants, MM's nephew. The cuddles are coming in a different format now, a less welcome one, the cloying cuddles of hot air molecules. Please be gone. I need to think. I am donning a multi-feathered headdress in honor of this occasion and spinninig around in circles. So far no thinking has come to me. I will wait.
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77 comments:
yo yo yos waz up mountain man man? I been krunkin' it hard core and need the sleeps yo. you be needin the thinkin and philosophizing, but i dare you to just stroll on by that avenue. Krunk it man, roll me one. peace out.
Hi Fabeebles. Is it time to mix up the piss yet? Maybe you are right about the thinking. I have other things I could do instead, like staring into space.
mix up that piss, yo, and see those rims a spinnin'. it's fly time bro. i be hanging out at Ned's later on waiting to let it come down, the streams will be boiling!
Ned's has starting serving a new flavor of aspic, butterscotch-mushroom. I hear it tastes real nice, especially with a spoonful of the noczema. I can't wait for hot piss storms to rain down on the worms on the floor of Ned's. Fabeebles, you give me a strange feeling. I thank you.
hi fabeebs, hi mm! Oh Mr. Pants!! I assume mom & dad pants are all a-okay? Today I desperately want to escape reality. It is scary how strong this desire is. The wineskin, the space bag, I dreamt of white powders. What is going on???
Reality is very harmful and toxic, especially to the epidermis. Lack of reality enhances healthful glow and maintaints proper liquid balance. Mr. Pants is so cute I can hardly stand it. Mom and Dad Pants are well and happy. Little guy is very happy to cuddle and fall asleep in the neck of anyone who wants to hold him.
PD, can you spare a wee bit of the oxy? Today I may need to take special measures.
My epidermis is old & crispy with a touch of red. This is what reality is doing to me. Butler! Where is my hidey hole?
I could use some oxy too. I dream of small tablets every night, they rain down on me from the blue magic trees of pill.
My skin too is putrid like cooked duck. Very proto-wrinkly, very saggy-baggy. It is sad that age causes this type of droop.
Sheila, I am sure you have a great personality though. FB go to the hidey hole lined with rhinestones. The sparkles will distract you and hypnotize you.
I heart the lack of reality.
flying away now. thank you.
Mr. Pants sounds squishy and cute!
come sail away FB.
Mr. Pants is the new king of everything. He is a kind and fair, good and just king. I am making a crown for him out of marshmallows.
I am hiding in a dark hallway, I am skulking and loitering, wanting to mug someone.
Go ahead and mug me, I deserve it. But can you tell me what hallway you're in? I can't find you.
I have a new enemy in the shape of a rat. This rat is very feral, very cloying. This rat sings insipid songs in a flat monotone.
Oh FB, sorry I was not here during your time of need. I have plenty of oxy to spare for my good friends.
Be careful with that oxy and Jack combo PD. I don't want your liver to curdle. I want you in tip top shape for our unity ceremony.
Painful sore throat. Hard to swallow. Yuck.
I am a fighter of fires in the heat of the night of the soul. I am failing to extinguish but have high hopes for later.
MM, drink the dew of the daisy to cure your ailments.
Thank you Krix. I will try to find some daisy dew. I hope all the daisies have not wilted. I am becoming a farm for bacterial agents.
did you find daisy dew, MM? What about Daisy Duke? Can I work on your backterial farm? I can handle a pitchfork.
I meant Bacterial farm. Backterial farm is sort of krazy Kafka.
I like the idea of the backterial. BACKTERIA is evil and not good and therefore it is very very good.
I absolutely cannot stand these popsicles who corrode my space in the freezer. These popsicles are onion-flavored and should melt into a silvery puddle. I have come to resent everything about onion-flavored popsicles and hope for their burial in melt form behind the pickles. Savory popsicles are for troglodytes who have no place in the fridge in which I live. Thank you and good night.
My my Cheez Wizard you seem awfully angry and nasty.
I hate onion popsicles too, I can understand your fury.
everyone needs to take a chill pill.
Onion Popsicle, please stay out of my way. I have grown steam roller hands and they are not only heavy but hot. You will be flattened and then your fate of melt will be sealed. I cannot take chill pills when I have you to deal with. Please heel!
Onion Popsicle you may be playing with the fire of the Cheez. I am playing with my displaced member, the one on my lower back. I am mutating and perverting into an onanist sack of pimply sweatiness. Who can be more grossed out that me at the sight of this writhing stinkbag a.k.a. myself? My fangs are starting to grow, it just feels right. I am heading to the woods this weekend and plan to bite leaves off of bushes and trees with them. I plan to pull up the weeds with them, sink them into sour fruits.
I am foaming at the mouth already. I am a rabid Mountainous M. Gnar, I am a snarleyow.
Oh oh oh oh oh oh!!!! YOU ARE SO DISGUSTING!!!!!!
I am crazy about forks and knives today, I have so much to say about them. But not now. I am also obsessed with black holes. I cannot speak of this now either. I am in a rush.
I love the eminence of the black hole as well, the promise of getting sucked into a vortex with no control over anything ever again is very delightful to my mind's eye. I am wanting to obliviate and merge with the ether. This is not to be considered a death wish.
I am scrubbing the stains off the floor. I am scrubbing with vigor to erase the past.
Poetess, scrub away, the stains of the past can have harmful effects on the clean towel of the present.
Not to mention the cucumber of tomorrow. It all hooks up.
There is a chant coming into my head, a chant of nothingness, a chant of bloody towels left on the floor of the shower, a chant of mice in the hallway, of pork fried rice on the bed. This is so intense.
Myrtle, I hate to tell you this but that could not possibly be a chant of nothingness, now could it? You are thick. You are fogbound.
Out out damned spot! I see the ghosts of men I have murdered in the heat of passion.
Arf!
I will not do that to you MM. I was just trying to identify with the poetess' dilemma.
Oh my... hot day. Shoulda stayed at the beach.
SLOTH!!!!!!! How are you my darling creature?
Tanned, rested and ready, oh MM. Missed ya.
Are you back in your log? Are you crispy fried?
I dearly missed your kind ways.
fried with melted butter on top... all rolled up in Log and poppin' fresh! It's nice to be back.
must work on a new post-toasties. Out of practice.
Even though it is loin-shrinkingly hot? I am deranged from too much movement above the slabs. I must go out momentarily and retrieve relics from the rotund one's cave. Luckily he is not there.
Yes it is hard. I have been having a hard time myself with the posts. Keep deleting them. Forget what my point is, as often there is none. It's good to take a break sometimes. I look forward to your next missive from the brilliant brain of Sloth.
Hi Ham, PD, FB, Krix, Corny, etc.... yay to be back!
I am sounding like a fiend today. Apologies. There are nets in my head with small trash fishies caught in them. It is truly a deranged state.
I am very glad you are back Sloth. I am the dilator. If any orifice in or near you requires dilating I am your man.
May the rotund one rot and implode. Sloth salutes MM and the brave & beautiful relics of MM.
Dilator, perhaps you can help with the tangles?
Hey Sloth!!! you were missed. I welcome you back with all my heart.
The dendrites of sloth are all in a tangled mess. Dilating might help.
You are the sweetest. I am still lacking in gold coins. However I feel I am wielding powers of doom. I still have forceful hopes. Part of it is that I am excited about new relics. That always gives the sense of power, even if it is delusional.
I can help with tangles, however, you must let me dilate at least one orifice. Fair is fair.
Hi PD! Missed you and yer blog, too.
Slothy do you think you will post images of new paintings? Are you shy to put them on your blog? I am. I would like to see yours. And yours PD. But it seems a scary proposal to put them out there. I admire Corny for this.
New relics are the inspiration of one's life.
I am still scrubbing away the past...
This is a very scary proposition, MM, especially since the new work is taking leaps and will probably end up being transitional, if all goes well. Slothy would love to see your new relics, MM.
Corny is fearless.
ooooh, scary posting the work. I much prefer e-mail!
Yeah I agree. Too scary for now. Maybe later. FB had a great idea that we should all visit each other's studios sometime, maybe divide it over two different nights. Cocktails would have to be a part.
Poetess, you must be tired from scrubbing. How about a nice glass of strawberry jam?
YES to the studio visits - great idea! Especially with liquid refreshments and snax.
Snax with an X are my favorite flavor.
Robert Novak Curses, Walks Off CNN Set
Veteran Washington journalist Robert Novak uttered an expletive and walked off the set during a political discussion on CNN Thursday.
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grrrrr blog spammers.
arf arf. I bark at thee.
Hi MM. I am forever sad that I was not able to contemplate your relics fully. I am hoping for viewing in the future.
If I am lucky, there will be another viewing that you can partake in. And if we all decided to visit mutually the studios of each one and the other, then there is no reason why the Krixa Della Forta may not join in and rove around with, if she should so desire it. I am barking now too, just for fun.
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