I’m so proud. Facebook is the bomb.

I’ve Come up For Air

October 10, 2008

I don’t know when my last post was (yeah, I know it’s pretty easy to find out, but seriously, don’t fuck with me today).  It was a long time ago.  The days seem to blur together.  I feel a bit of a lull right now. 

The weather is turning colder and it’s darker outside.   Thoughts turn inward and, like the weather, tend to stray toward the darker.  The summer provided a sort of break from whatever was twisting me up.  I was outside a ton and I managed to stay at someone else’s place for many warm nights (wink, wink).  Now I’m coming up out of the flood waters and facing those thoughts that were pushed aside while I had better things to do.

For all intents, it’s the end of summer vacation for me.  Realities have a way of creeping up on you when you aren’t paying attention.  I need to get some cash together (my last venture had a rather unpleasant ending – possibly more on that later), I need to clean (yes, it has been that long) and I need to shake loose the cobwebs that led me to take summer vacation in the first place.

I guess you could say I’m needy.  Send fruit and liquor, please.  Thanks.

Also, to both Chicago baseball teams : Go piss on a rail.  You owe me money.

The day the music died

June 30, 2008

Or was killed, depending on how you look at it.  Turns out that I’m better equipped to take these things apart than I am to reassemble them.  I’m also lacking in photography skills.  Oh well, I’m going back to napping.  It seems sleeping is the last best option for me these days.  Otherwise, I find myself in strange circumstances.  Even if, when you are asleep, you can’t be sure you’re asleep, you’re still asleep.  Get it? 


Back in black

May 8, 2008

It’s been a thrilling month, though at times a bit harrowing and expensive.

I went on the lam for a while due to some issues here at home.  Mostly just finding myself in a strange mental state.  I thought a good thing to do would be to search out some of my bums that are more twisted then I am .  I mean, what better way to feel good about yourself?

So, I went about and did just that.  It entailed the usual types of debauchery and a little more sun than I would have gotten had I stayed home.  In the midst of it all, one of my oldest pals passed me some nuggets that really warped my head.  Not necessarily in a bad way, but definitely the sort of thing that, when you emerge….you aren’t really sure you have.  Down the rabbit hole as it were.  Or the snake hole, really.

Either way, the experience got us chatting and we sort of sketched out a plan for a better mouse trap.  We shall see if anything comes of it.  I think I’m game, even in the light of day, but wary.  My pal is inconsistent, so you never know about guys like that.  I will say, it has become a new sort of obsession for me.  Just thinking and tinkering around.  Generally a good thing, since putting my mind to new things should keep me from contemplating the lurking that I felt before I jaunted off to parts unknown.

One of Those Days

April 7, 2008

I’m ridiculously sore.  I’m newly broke.  My head feels like it’s 20 fathoms deep.

I need to find new ways to occupy my time.

Anyone know anything about hunting?


March 24, 2008

That’s the name of the game this week.

Firstly, I damn near broke my neck craning out of the shower to figure out if I was really hearing music.  I was kind of woozy from the previous evenings endeavors, plus the grimy tub and hot water….well, I don’t know about the music, but I was definitely seeing stars after that.

Secondly, some wanna-be young criminals have been messing around with my mail.  I thought it was my stalker at first, but now I’m pretty sure it’s kids from down the street.  I have half a mind to put a rat trap in the box.  GET OFF MY LAWN, YOU DAMN WHIPPERSNAPPERS!

Finally, and by far the most troubling, is the results of this weekend’s NCAA action.  Man, there were some serious fuck ups.  Vanderbuilt about broke me right off the bat.  Marquette managed to stay just close enough to beat the spread.  Georgetown laid an absolute egg.  So, I am going to have to chase down a few winners before someone comes chasing me down with a billy club and an oustretched hand.  At least MLB starts up and there will be some easy pickings at the outset.

At least it snowed some more over the weekend….so I have that going for me.

Better Late Than Never

March 11, 2008

So, I gather that the time changed.  IT CHANGED!

Yes, it seems silly.  You can’t just travel ahead in time at the blink of an eye.  That’s what I thought.  Apparently, not only is this possible, but everyone’s doing it.

Nobody told me.  Getting stuck in this kind of time flux can fuck you up in any number of ways.  People have a need for you to be in the same flux time as they are.  Just when you think you’re being consistent, They tool up some strange bullshit like this.  Oh well, it’s not like I have a watch or clock anyway.  I doubt it would have mattered.  I still like to know the rules.  Not this mamby pamby game master crap.  I mean good old fashioned, set in stone type stuff.

Anyway, there are more pressing insanities going on now.

For one, my douchebag neighbor is outside again.  This is never good and it really is hardly ever NOT the case.  My concern here is that the series of whether events here has caused the wonderful scenario of what is called Temporary Snow Remnants Terrain (TSRT).  This occurs when you follow massive snow falls with deep temperature drops, preferably a number of these dynamic duos of weather in a row.  Now, when you get a good temperature rise, enough to melt the normal snow, you still have TSRT.  The snow is almost all gone.  Almost.  What you have remaining are all the hills and mountains of piled snow.  They can vary tremendously in color from off-white all the way to black.  Currently, we have the variety that is as close to white as possible.

Back to the neighbor.  His life is such that he feels he needs to take the TSRT and distribute it evenly about his demesne.  I can only assume he is trying to hasten the melt.  This is highly unnecessary.  It is also irksome, as I don’t like running into him (if I had to suddenly run out for something…..it might happen, you never know).  Additionally, I continue to see him out the corner of my eye and, due to my stalker issue, I am compelled to look each time.  On the plus side, the removal of the largest of the TSRT’s gives my stalker fellow one less hiding place.

More on that situation later.


March 2, 2008

I haven’t seen my stalker.  Not because he isn’t there.  He may be, I just don’t know about it.  I’ve barely gotten out of bed.

I have stirred the last few days only for necessities like food, booze and elimination (and to watch some six nations rugby).  I’ve ramped up my freakish dreaming to all time levels.  Mainly due to the extended sleeping.  I normally don’t drag sleep into the day and I never nap (it gives me a headache), but this past week has been a blur of dream and reality.  It was too tremendous to end it.  Like downing some serious hallucinogens and dropping into a pile of floor pillows.

I’ve got a ton of shit to do now.  Blew off a couple cats that really want to catch my attention.  Thank the heavens it was stunningly warm out today.  I had to take a walk.  It does a body good.  I’ll restart my surveillance attempts this week.

Watching the Watcher

February 19, 2008

So, I have this freaky guy that stands across the street from my place.  At first, this didn’t really seem odd.  It’s a bustling metropolis after all.  There are people.  People stand.  Even in the urban environs, you see the same folks all the time (don’t ask them out, though, you are liable to get spit on).

The twist of it is, he’s there at odd times.  It seems he has nothing else to do (quite possible).  It also seems that he orients toward my pad.  I’m pretty sure he is watching me.  For what purpose, I can’t say.  He doesn’t look very official (as in the fuzz or the revenuers).  Rather, he looks like a bum dressed in casual clothing.  Hair askance, rumpled khakis, dark sunken eyes.  He is tallish, maybe 6’2″ (that’s tallish for me, dammit)…maybe he’s a male model doing some kind of live mannequin project.

At first I tried to sprint out there and confront him (just being neighborly, mind you).  This had clear faults as plans go.  1)  I’m terribly slow and it’s freakin cold out, so I have to get dolled up to brave the elements (and I’m not sitting in here with my coat on).  2)  The years of tobacco usage causes coughing, weezing fits in the midst of random bursts of activity.  3)  He can clearly see when I’m getting up to leave the house.

So, the next obvious thing is to try to minimize the view from the sidewalk.  Also problematic, since I am prevented from seeing what is outside myself.  It also piques my brain and I have to keep going over to peer out from behind my makeshift heavy drapery.

I’m working on a third option, possibly involving my video camera (if I can shake some life into it).  If I can remember, I may try to note when I see him or try to snap a photo.

On the plus side, this is better than watching another episode of Whining Asshats of Reality TV or trying to clean the fridge.

Hog Tied

February 8, 2008

We, as a society, must be ever vigilant.  There are people out there on the streets, in our communities, in our very backyards, that are hell bent on engaging in the most hazardous and disgusting activities known to man.  Dark arts that were thought wiped out long ago in the righteous purges of the savages by the keepers of light and knowledge.

I have previously mentioned one high priest practitioner attempting a public goat slaughter.  A man so crazed as to flaunt his excess and debauchery in the face of our good city.  Now consider a heathen from some dark, asian island who, in his refusal to accept the culture of this Great America, has been caught using his own residence to roast pigs for some warped ceremonial dish called lechon.  Witness accounts claim he was taking the pig to some unnamed religious rite among other practitioners.

I’m glad someone is on the case.  If you think that this kind of thing is not a viral infection on this nation, you are sadly mistaken.  To fret over the surface concerns of craterous pot holes, economic decline and violent crime, you miss the point of these pockets of cultural dereliction.  They are eating the soul of our community.  They are chipping away at your resolve as with each indiscretion, you tire and redraw the line.  What harm, this thing?  Cold comfort when the end comes.

Each new generation of ours is dulled by the sheer number of aberrants. Fooled into seeing harmlessness as their unformed minds are warped by the inclusion of these behaviors at every turn. They see it in school, on tv, in their hedonistic music.

To quote a spiritual visionary of our time, “And all I say to myself is it’s a mad, mad world.”

And don’t think for one minute that I’ll change my mind if anyone sends me some lechon with crisp, caramelized, fatty skin and spiced, salty roast pork.  No.  Certainly not.  Not even if you sent me the ribs.  Pardon me while I resume being cranky, find more ways to drive my neighbors crazy and set out some whiskey for the rats, lest they get into my bud again.