This Fork and I are Biodegradable.

September 28, 2008 at 10:00 am | Posted in Uncategorized | 1 Comment
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favorite lines?

There is a girl who sits across the universe and stares at me. I can feel it. This tingling in the back of my eyes, but I don’t know what she’s thinking. I do the best I can, which is stare back across the continent, oceans, people doing people things in their respective time zones, crossing borders, dying for Someone’s God Knows What. On the Universal Tabletop we barter with the world. Like Gods playing craps for natural disasters we bluff until we know each other’s tell, an intimacy few people really know. We hate it. Want to take it back. Don’t want to know when she’s lying, don’t want to know why she’s staring at me like I’ve become a metaphor for death and dying and I’ve claimed her favourite grandmother before her time.

The earth’s core is thick with attempts to dig into China. No success as of yet. It doesn’t stop young children setting out to shores with shovels and a mind to make it through to the other side. Pop out in the street or the great wall perhaps and this will be my secret tunnel through the world. The can to string to can tree house communications system draws cobwebs now. Belongs in a museum.
The flowers on my windowsill are dying, petals lying dead on the sill. Still I haven’t watered it or thrown it away. The dried out stems sticking out of the Perrier 10 cents recyclable refundable. They really should be thrown out. In my free time I brush the fallen petals into my hand and drop them in the trash can. Waste tells a lot about a person. Like reading palms, read my trash. What am I like? I eat fruit rollups, got a package in the mail, wrote a note and discarded it. You, my dear. Well, let me see. You like junk food as evidenced by this nutterbutter wrapper. You went to a SLAM poetry event recently, see here this postcard? You’re forgetful, this is a notice that you missed your last appointment. Dear, you will graduate college with an unchanged procrastination habit, single, and one hangover that you definitely won’t tell your kids about. You’ll still be wearing Disney underwear though. You’re a lost cause there.

I wish I wish upon a star to die before the past tense catches up with me. Don’t want to be dying under sheets and daytime drama. Duck duck goose don’t want to know my noose. Bug off until I say I’m ready to quit my lying, writing, sneezing, laughing, Firefly watching.

I am alive in dreams and wakeness, so tell me when I can go home.

September 23, 2008 at 7:05 pm | Posted in Random Thoughts | 1 Comment
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Favorite lines?

I can’t think my thoughts when Vista damns creativity with 11 point Calibri, day over night over double spaced monotony.

In journalism, paragraphs are key. The holy grail of journalistic success, all you need are paragraphs. One or two sentences to express a statement of fact. Kyle Leerie, 23, died when his car crashed into a tree. He was pronounced dead at the scene. Not, the tree was Oak and Kyle’s accident woke up a family of blue jays. They flew away on impact. Continue Reading I am alive in dreams and wakeness, so tell me when I can go home….

Pet Peeves in College

September 22, 2008 at 8:02 pm | Posted in school | Leave a comment
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Pet peeves I’ve picked up or carried over into college:

  • Chewing gum. There is no way humanly possible to chew gum without sounding like you’re chewing the cud. It’s loud and gross. The only excuse is airlines. I chew gum now and then, but I usually swallow it within minutes. Ewwww says you. It is a habit to be discussed at a later date. I especially hate it when people chew gum in a quiet place (library) where I am trying to study. It is quite hard to analyze Orwell with you popping your gum every other second.
  • Ring Tones that are obscenely loud. In the middle of a movie – or a presentation – and suddenly “Crank dat Soulja Boy, Now watch me you, Crank dat Soulja boy”. Seriously? Unless you leave your phone in the car and expect to hear it if it rings when you are in a building a quarter mile away – use the vibrate mode. I don’t want to know when the world blesses you with a call. I want to hear my movie. kthanx. Continue Reading Pet Peeves in College…

The New Yorker’s Obama ‘oopsie doopsie’?

July 24, 2008 at 10:09 pm | Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment
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Alright the whole media world seems to think this is a big deal. Okay. I’ll bite. The New Yorker’s most recent cover ignited the bloggers and news at 11. Every sentient joe with a sense of political or moral compass played the game indignant. Blasphemy!! Democrats howl. Republicans cackled, choosing to ignore the jab at their own political looking glasses. The New Yorker puffed out its chest: it’s satire, we are making fun of you duhh.

If you have no inkling of what I am rambling about…your rock is bigger than mine. And my rock is famously large. It shields me from celebrity relationship statuses and common sense – among other things. The cover in question is a cartoon depicting Obama in Muslim garb in the white house fist bumping his wife who is sporting a major afro and a terrorist -esque gun. Behind them is a framed picture of Osama Bin Laden and an American flag burning in the fireplace.

Every simpleminded negative stereotype is covered in this cartoon. Let’s break it down. Continue Reading The New Yorker’s Obama ‘oopsie doopsie’?…

Backseat Dryad performing now! Naming Your Band for Dummies.

July 19, 2008 at 9:04 pm | Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment
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Yes.

Backseat Dryad.

It’s a band name that I cooked up in my head two seconds ago. I quite like it. So I’m documenting.

I have this thing with band names. They’re usually stupid. Naming Your Band For Dummies: 1) think of a noun 2) add this noun to On Rye. (note that 99% of the following examples are real self professed band names most of which I gleaned from a 60s Canadian Garage Band website.)

I decided that if you add anything to On Rye, it works. Naturally the first noun most people (er, at least that is that I)pick for any example (not quite sure why) is Socks. Ergo, SocksOnRye.

Pinnacle on Rye. Backburner on Rye. Mother in Law on Rye. Continue Reading Backseat Dryad performing now! Naming Your Band for Dummies….

Banjo’s surgery & wedding cake makery

July 11, 2008 at 11:37 am | Posted in day to day | 4 Comments
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The vet called my mum’s cell phone on Wednesday at 10am. “We can do Banjo’s surgery now.”

Mom (at work): “Umok? He ate breakfast already, is that ok?” Vet: “Yeah, yeah just bring him in. You can pick him up at 7am tomorrow.” Mom: “Ummmok?”

Mom (calling me frantically): “wakeupyouhavetotakebanjotothevet.” Me: “umok?”

We didn’t even get to spoil the puppy before he got ripped into by the humans in masks. Continue Reading Banjo’s surgery & wedding cake makery…

I was thinking (and how did that go for you?): Romance Novels, Accidental Homicide, Pregnancy Tests.

July 3, 2008 at 11:21 am | Posted in Random Thoughts | 2 Comments
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My thoughts in bullet form.

  • I’ve relapsed. I slipped a week or so ago, thought I had a hold on it, but last night I knew for sure that I was in trouble. I am addicted to cheese – that is terribly plotted- ijusthrewupinmymouth dialogued- repetitive and predictable by the slowest of us – romance novels. God. I picked up the habit in tenth grade. I needed something to read and by golly Nora Roberts had half a bookstore to herself. I was a little awed, a little jealous. By the end of sophomore year I’d read every Roberts book in the local libraries (and had them placed on hold and transferred if the library was understocked; I throw myself into my habits to the point of self harm*). I moved on to Mary Higgens Clark. Then Nicholas Sparks. youjusthrewupinyourmouth. I know. Don’t kick me while I’m down. Continue Reading I was thinking (and how did that go for you?): Romance Novels, Accidental Homicide, Pregnancy Tests….

On the soul & abortion, from the mixed up files of a high school classroom.

June 28, 2008 at 9:47 am | Posted in religion, school | Leave a comment
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(http://www.foundmagazine.com)

You’d think that smile at a girl would be on Monday (before the approach). I’m not sure if this is an aspiring lesbian readying to jump right in before she chickens out, a man that writes SEX in block letters with a heart, or a woman trying to help her male friend out with a how to bag (an easy?) girl grocery list. Continue Reading On the soul & abortion, from the mixed up files of a high school classroom….

How to ace an abomb final: The poem that saved my high school honor roll career.

June 26, 2008 at 8:02 pm | Posted in school | Leave a comment
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Notes:

1. A mulligan is a redo
2. Curiosity killed the cat; satisfaction brought it back.
3. Charon (Greek mythology) ferried the dead to the underworld.
4. Dresden was a German city firebombed to oblivion by the Allied forces in WWII

Curiosity Killed The Cat.

1.
The little girl asked,
What is a planet?

Well, little girl, ask that club
that kicked out Pluto
like it was a drunk and bumming soul
that had no place in high society.

Science will balk,
but file a civil suit
and give Pluto back its class ring.
They are the bouncers that –
with their brass brains and reason –
stand outside the Earthbound arches
duck duck goosing answers of their choosing
to the common man
while we
Jane and John Doe
take our Flintstone vitamin C
and know what they want us to know.

Little girl ask, Who are they? Continue Reading How to ace an abomb final: The poem that saved my high school honor roll career….

Wells Fargo is an alien transplantation and I love it.

June 20, 2008 at 11:59 pm | Posted in Random Thoughts | 1 Comment
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Theory:

Rather than subject them to random drug tests, WellsFargo keeps its employees happily medicated on ecstasy and morphine.

or

WellsFargo is the first successful undetected (until now) alien workforce (not from mexico) functioning as human.

Why?

I have never walked into a WellsFargo (whether it be Bank or grocery store kiosk) and transacted with an angry/moody/disgruntled employee. Every person has been young, helpful, and smiles at a ratio much higher than that of the normal population. They’re also usually very attractive, perhaps a factor related to the constant shower of pleasantries. Continue Reading Wells Fargo is an alien transplantation and I love it….

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