this was put up and taken down and now it is being put up again.
this week i’ve had a cough i can’t shake and some shakes i can’t cough.
i’m low key like sea shells
Dog
Analysis from a friend:
So there’s this game where every person has a dog breed equivalent. You can do it in one of two ways: physical appearances or disposition– no one comes out happy playing the physical appearance version and it’s usually just based on haircuts anyway– so I’ll just do disposition. You are The Blue Heeler, a tireless herding dog, easily one of the smartest breeds.
Their physical energy mixed with their intelligence gives them a higher rate of mental disorders IF they’re not given room to run, a job to do and, most importantly, attention.
I met a guy who breeds these dogs when I was a kid, and among all the anthropomorphization a dog breeder is disposed to getting up to out in the woods, what stuck with me the most is that, according to him, the Blue Heeler is the only breed that will work or play catch with you until it has a heart attack. The dog’s sense of well being is outweighed by its need to be engaged.
I’ll admit that Blue Heelers specifically fascinate me, so I’m prone to projecting a fair bit. ALSO I just went to the wiki site to see the soul of a dog breed. Or the things dog breeders make up out there. Alone and going crazy with dogs.
BETTER DAYS
Throwing money at laundry problems is worth it. Today… FIRST EXPERIENCE WITH THE WASH-AND-FOLD. Today… new motto: HANDLE MY DELICATES, I DON’T GIVE A FUCK!
While the washers and folders were doing their little thing, I wrote Post It notes and used thumbtacks of JUST THE RIGHT SIZE AND COLOUR to affix them to my corkboard AND THEN wrote out tasks in dry erase marker AND made infused syrups and did other ridiculous bullshit.
I meant to use this time to write a humour piece for The Rumpus. (There IS a Post-It note telling me I must write something for The Rumpus.)
rocklock 1500
On Thursday night, I had a bicycle accident. I swerved around a large truck, the bike became caught in a streetcar track and I was propelled off it. Oddly, I landed on my feet and began to run. Then I turned around and held out my hands to stop the cab that was about to crush me. I had some pizza in my bag for my friend Nick, which I delivered to him. As I was handing him the pizza, tears-explosion.
On Friday, the bike was stolen. On my walk home, as I was screaming to Abi on the phone about how I deserved to be crushed by the cab and how I didn’t deserve nice things, I stopped to punch and kick this abandoned Christmas tree.
On Saturday, the guys at the bike shop felt sorry for me, so they gave me a $1,000 ride for $600. It’s my new lil mama and I love it.
On Sunday, it rained and the bike got wet.
On Monday, nothing bike-related happened.
Yesterday, a car hit me while I was riding, but I bounced off a parked car to my right, managed to straighten my bike and continue onwards to the blood testing clinic.
PRESIDENTS
This child is wanted for the rodeo. Please contact me if you find him, or the rodeo.
lingual threats (government and binding theory)
a friend pointed out the tongue’s involvement in both albums by The 6ths (and in the name of the band The 6ths)… all meant to be said in the Out Loud:
1. Hyacinths and Thistles (by the The 6ths)
2. Wasps Nests (also by The 6ths)
no one ever pointed THIS out to me until Alana bought me the year-late housewarming gift of a silicone baking tray with little punctuations… ampersands are apparently based on babies doing it to themselves with their hands.
tonight my bicycle was stolen. once you have finished donating to haiti, perhaps you’d like to donate to my New Bicycle Fund. i am a lot like haiti: warm, spirited and with structural integrity that is generally doomed.
I will allow only the tiniest part of your dream to come true
running out into the street with beaujolais bottles
On Friday night, my house keys went missing. Luckily, I’d had the foresight to bring the following items to the bar, just in case I found myself locked out.
Earlier in the week, I did an audit of all the stars in the sky for my friend.
shouts and murmurs. and murders.
Yesterday while eating my weight in gingersnaps and looking at mails on the internet I discovered that people use social networking for something other than posting bra shots of themselves and I was so, so, SO sad and upset.
A message to you, Charles Elsam II
Your son Charles Elsam III called to ask me for friendly beer date and then communicated that you think I look terrible in that photo of me in the scarf. That really hurt my feelings. They are feelings that will only be saved with large amounts of wine from your private collection. This amount will do (my own father is in the process of drinking dry this portion of the cellar.)
