okidokey skinnimaroke...it's raining..it is now summer, nearly a year since I posted here and guess what? I found Bob Meints...good 'ol Bob Meints down the poopshoot on the tail end of wherever and whenever from however..still gotta ballhead and looking like a pingpongdriver at the pc...whipping it out..we had a very  nice time together, once upon a time when he was still a 'male man', hehe...I guess thanks to the likes of the 'extraterrestrial interloper' that no doubt did in quite a few of us to make 'bots for little 'amalia'...ahemmm.. I clear my throat and don't try to comprehend because if you get to this blog..well, it's a moot point what in many toothpicks I am talking about..right? so...I use the blog today to clear the air and generate the referendum on the latest of many personal endeavors to which I account myself..the little town of Clallam Bay being what it is..not much and me living practically on top of the cog that won't compute in terms of good ol 'ami'..zeee offworlder with the children of the corn eyes..good thing I had the toots putt in when I did..shatshop...tankuberrymudge..popped up almost instantaneously after a week nadda when Dylan's dotter dincumbag..ah ha..DOS on the muscle there and there it is and I don't trust ADA anymore than I trust the housekeeper...well, computer speaking terms and all..that isn't what I wanted to say anyway, it being a relator code at best..to what has happened in real time in the last few days
item 1: good ol adobe workshop has a house like a trainwreck and an attitude like I gibb you forty dollah you ...well, you... ah..you did
item 2: workshop is going away to fine fish for five day be bag saturday mmhmmm..with turdytowsandollah for new truckiwucks he got order..an den..he call us tursday in morning..
item 3: he say da bow don't got no resin he never leb de harber..and de fish, well 'YamesYoyce' got no issue with the relator code (only guy who doesn't) hehe
so der goes turdytowsandollah to hymn and neveafew...and who ever else he say der a gooz on the docks does I wand it? huh?  I say gib to Joe he say he will I hear joe today fall off the porch at wheel roe break his nose and herd his mowfff big time (he be 90 or more) and this workshop dude
gotta a stiff bag..don't like no BAGRUBS..no time
he BILL d fire
he gimme money to k.lien/40..so I owe him dat..I guez..was a rugged interview worthy of KimDune Sang or at least half of North Korea at least...sheesh..we watched some bares killing and scruggling one another for a bit las night and I use up my gasoline dribeing out der an bag..I tell ya..well...had had this thing about that person for a while and if I sound like he knocked a few of my marbles out of the bag it's because he was pretty abrupt in ways that were not understandable to me as I don't get to know him any better because right off the bat the bode has no bat tree..I got a bat under the shingles on the garage dude...you wann'em?? he's a cutte little bugger that bat...all stripey round the head like some kind of marvelous cheetah but only maybe a square inch of that sort of furr...anyway...kind of a disappointing second date with first date pimplette (gotta get on gotta get on...off to mag thirty tow san...an b.eye nutruc..oh that'd be Kim...I guess) so..what you here from the actress in challah.wd is a buncha hasbeenteenkits laying low in challah sticking toes in cold watter while General Grow commits the obviation factor in the trial runoffs courtesy of the aborted snafu which level sorted the brain mutancy of Richard Adms' book 'The Plague Dogs'...now that'll get you tarnished and burned with smears on your clothes yu just put onn...(now did dat get there that hype of shocklott frau.sting??))...goobers
so I wanners...I got this one quick look at the monkey tail..it was a plug that became a tobacco chewing receptacle about a day later or so...quickly worn and wandered..wow..how we is..what we is...and don't ask the undertaker he's busily reversing the tally scores on 'I lye'g''s my Martin Luthers...' or something...we don't know what yet but wheel fine out..we ill... I gotta think on it...how did I do watching little betty and her cubs take the hit from the big pythons in the stream?  horrible...reminded me of Kayla and Joey and Lilly and even to know them as relatively close by being a thing that isn't...thanks to proximity of the Omars and such...wants to scratch their names off the blog but I don't.. there's something relatively human in all of this but probably it ain't me,  I got the werking stobe, the Polish connection...the adams residence...the Michelina Haus..commandeered by swaziland to mitigate what the consequences of a bean casserole will acquaint the nostrils to, on a sunny day...yeah
it was Lennon John that came up with this goofy kidlike conversation and it just lilts along and says 'he strung my guitar but then he reasoned he should pluck it'...
so then he was through doing that and went back for another haircut and got acquainted with a big Billy in a small suit that toled him he should guaranty annesty to anyone prescribing the forfeiture of that giant spaceship my brother told me about that covered the metropolitan area of San Francisco as reported by Art Bell at 3 in the morning when day when Robert was listening closely
oh yeah I says...I can do 'er...so he builds this lovely warm fire but the bearskin has disappeared and instead we're watching it on the telly and they're eating mothers but he's too sore and old to think about what that might mean...(you lesbo you)
indeed 'she' shows up to even the score and had it run through a mocha cycle with a rip to columbine and fortesque and all the little dremlings in the dremmel patch as if it were a tool
not sure what that one meant but I hope you do...I canna resume watching and building the giant toadstool that succumbs to debenture in what was definitely an even score according to little koolaidie...
olmo..
so, I could go on but it makes me feel better already that I hadn't..I wondered and I watched for a  while, kind of hcilly under the cubbers and then I says I ain't standing for that mudder getting her socks watched you hear me?? and I left
it at that
and he got himself a little scribbleI done 'I moose you'...a drawing because I thought he was at sea till saturday and he is back and making excuses for his sorry self as if there were a real person in there and it appears that their ain't (or those eagles flying around...did you ever see the one nest that there is?  in front of the fine arts grounds in PA?  quite a big too doo that thing,,so I brought home all the nesting materials since they like to flock here in big muttering droves..the bunch of 'em...they huge..well on the Hoh they huge)...so they gotta nest wherever they wann it...and the old punk band can drive in the shimlock and take a rest in the porterhouse whenever 'e wants...it'll still be splat...ahhhh
so no...we got introduced we got columbined..we didn't schleep or schleep togetters because he hadda get out of town and off to sea...but he dinnt cause the bat in the tree flew and he was bag  and that's it..end of story disapppointed but I wrote a nice write here about shakey fingers that did finalize the cue score ahh..at a time when bots were answering funny comments about slaying grizzlies in alaska...I thought...I did get up close and yeah he bit me but he was kind of aenethstized somehow every wild animal in the forest was told to be haib up due to daddy wikeing dis gurl..(think so maybe)...can't align to my native resources...they not there in this wurl..I think that's the sadness part...ain't happening...never did (admit that)...well, you make it up...you makeup...was he ever going to suggest the casino and a weekend away...I dowd it..and I got brown frosting on my yakit...which is a white fleece..and I woulda never worn it today had I known...well now I know a lot more than I did when it was time to mow...and that being the case that was lovely and so was the carpenter element with the palestinian delay module acerbating every schphlunk there was (my stamp card for subway is no longer valid, duh...)
ok, so...as it stands he'll never be there again as far as I can tell because he came back from the beach and he was there and the sea harvest was a bust because he never got out of the port (and I haven't been for a ride on his boat)...so then I went into satsop mode and twigged up some of one of the trings...as I would cause I could because I did dat a while ago and I don't care how yellow is the whiteman (the yellow hairs) they still yellow through and through busting up what mighta been a good roman sssssss
as it were he canna talk more than a sentence about this that without it being a spittoon you can see the kind of evil dribble came out of the ancestors' mouths to talk about how they got gone...makes you want to rescind dannyt glubbers contrackt to be the bomb O...sometimes
get that perlized newt back in the jar...dig it
and that's hollywood as I know it today...
rain and laundry on the line two trucks pulling in and they can't use the can..well
lesseee it's b.ray(b) nuwerl..w/Pitt.Ashton/am.burr(whiled rose and so on Iconic and verbal and time to go homies
almost
I recken that's the way it is
although I was counting on cedar beams and I get this devastation
I was listening to casino tunes and dancing
and I was making my own pancakes (not raw but alone)
and he was talking about all the scene yore meals sevin daze a wig
and udderdendat the parking lot is still full of tourists and they gotta videocam of the sky staying gray and full of spring rain (it's may)
have to write...a burden, a grimace a shoehorn wistful and doubting it'll ever be real for me
just like that bumper "I found it and now my finger stinks) my mother thought it was awful
I said frainkly, remember when we were kids an one of us was always in puttee pants...and
that's how we'd twig to the process?
that's where I related to it
but then...I can't see him sitting on the one functional toilet, I can see him coming out of the shower
I can't see him talking other than to lecture me about the importance of being Ernest (grimes)
there is such a guy out there - idi's double..hehe..hope idi gets a load of this...he often wonders if emom can get it right enough to keep the hare from the hounds
sigh...a falulty grimace...the devil's daughter spies a pond below...
arnie busts through a shirtsleeve trying to tone it down
we welcome the event
kari.org
haha..such is it...I was so happy that it had happened and he had it...
he said..
so now I'm thinking he has had it because he's played every card except the keeler.profumo schnipe
and I had the grillin' beans for supper and walk around in the vague fumes of dispatch
later I rub my eyes against the harsh reality of the quantum
it belorgs me to be uppity on the marrow...I wander here lost without the solstance of my weekly sojourn in these parts as if for never I could equate to being justice and light with the bandana of the morbid as the defeater of my cause...he'd be pardoned sure enough if he were only to wonder what it was that made him do that in the first place
'we got to set this up right' I never said because I always it just to happen
and so it did
he's going to level his lot and grabble it up and there's going to be no trees anywhere but in the picture books and the ones I draw..why do you want to mow?
get it grabbled
and be sure you don't inference how you feel about anyting because the hammer coming down isn't the one Picasso uses..no way Jose
nope...it's not about that...it's about my werd is yer were and Blue Duck(goose) is my name
I guess you were married to the bastard and he finally shit you out....hmmm

so that's that
in a nutshell you're running around with the lame one's blood in your veins for the moment..having vouchsafed the blind scar for a routine made in Bimini...
ah to where I was..
and I walked toute suite to the exit sign with the comment you gotta mobious yer t.rug

me and the archeologist...

joey's room is full of clothing..carpeting that needs a good scrub..his desk and his odds and ends
and Joey is Gino the dog...and Joey is a Hoh...or so they told me
I thought he was a conglomerate of corporate interests me and Bill gates put together to nail down the coffin lid on the powers that wannabe...but in my heart, there he isand always will be
faithful and listening asd I write about the navajo elwha lion...whom I told my MOrrison child would be can...to work on as a mural...
it's confusing, all ofit and what's his face Burroughs has nothing on me in terms of adequate relevancy orthat I might be angry to sit behind this chap and never touch him, but I did touch him and they said do not do this for he is FIRE, but then I am ICE and perhaps the one will melt the other and quench his thirst because the other people, the ampitheater sorts..all sitting around glomming onto what is happening (nothing, to my mother)...while we recognize the perfume called 'california'..as his body scent...I've never been there...my own is 'Jessica'..and I know Mr. Zettlemoyer defines that aspect ofthings...(who the hell is he one wonders ifone isnot me...but he's the 'haus' man...is who he is and the Jessica perfume is lovely...but I'm in the dregs and drags of my clothingh routine...I shall do better because I found a mini after that..black and white, it was grand and I thought, I shall make some of those and that one I did not buy...then the filets of salmon came as my brother told me I was beginning to become confused about reality...hey, when my son was sitting on my father's lap investigating the clothes line, I found it important to become confused, didn't I?...
that sort ofthing...ah well...another day for this, me and Joyce and Muskles...big smile
I'm so into art right now it's not funny, buti nspired as well to be making molasses crinkles and hoping again to see Mr. REally great and wonderful...who I think is now involved in a relationship with 'one of the twins'...I think...I dunno...does it matter?  howdoes he feel about me? would he gas?...text me baby...figure it out..I'll just dedicate some inspisration to the fact the sun shines in the window when I even think aboutthis afternoon and all the crowds of people around usand I'm sitting behind this guy going 'ahhh, eeee...ooooh'..as though it could really come true..asthough...

how to mix it up

wow...I've been lovingup the always sunny in philadelphia series...what a good show..a little with the raunch because some words due to my ''nuclear age'...always '17'..I hear a cringe when I hear the word dong..and it isn't about a bell..duh...words like that, poop words but what's a polite reference to something like that I don't know...quite tongue in cheek is prefereable of course but it isn't done...we're not so polite, well read is what we should be, so we could and there were a lot of Nooks on the plane coming to Phoenix...I've been in the house almost the entire time I've been here...I've been in the hot tub and will go again when baby awakens because I don't want to run the motor while he sleeps inside the room that faces the place where the tub is..under the great Mesquite...I was thinking it would be good to visit a reservation because I think even though I can't aspire to being a native american somehow through my work and time in america that I have become part of a tribe, maybe it's the Rainbows but I was thinking it's more like the GarciaGreenGroup...ggg
green being the painter Tom...Garcia being Jerry the former Grapeful..and so on..we've been on the wire about nuclear stuff since way back and then there was the general Morrison who was the soul of the Indian of course...and nobody better claim that title while his spirit is still in the world..wild man..
we've got one like him, gone away at the moment to help a brother with a broken back...and yeah, my little son rests there wondering what it is to be a man and be seven or ate...I don't make a typo there...I see the fat gray haired lady with the agenda involving beets...bloody towels...blue Mercedes..something about going solo...and I wonder if my Raven clan associations in Lyons would help with that...no doubt...I think that writing when one has no purpose is stupid but I don't do that nor do I talk about what I've been doing, rather it's a reminesce about the solo entry, Han(d)...and his recovery as a myth and muse of times to be...how we've perhaps educated our resource of nuclear power, not so much contained it as understood that there must be rings planted at the sites, hops, cocaine, marijuana, tobacco...and there's the song cycles that the hopis will teach the plants as they wave in the summer wind...the rainbows did that one gathering and I could see it..baby cries...AWAKE...

hope soo..darn text is shrinking shrinking..and I was writing about the women's health fair at the community center in Neah Bay and how I was busy trying to ignore my feelings to the point when I got home I cried because I had buried them ten feet deep in a hill of sand and regret...like why would I be attracted to that person?  you just don't know, you just art..hehe, art, sometimes typos are for the good...I sat there, looking all around the room, I know this person very little, try to be polite, isn't really something I should invest in...I think it comes later but it's here and I let it slide into the sea, the rain comes down in buckets, the roof leaks like a sieve (really,, truly) but I'm like hmmm..why do I dig this person?  it's bit Tony Hillerman..the hair..the face is 'up yours...I'm the one with the club..you're going down, baby' and I'm like shoot there goes my font shrinking again, hgehe...squidlitts...
ok so he's a fisherman for one...he had his truck repo'd like mine was...he isn't interested in me, I don't think, well if he is heck if I know it..I'm like yeah...and I realize that it's all about the laws of attraction with a lot of cultural interface going on, he could be Japanese the way he looks, about as big as myself, maybe younger, OH, that's it...yep...I think at 62 I'm over the hill in the men department, he'll never go for me because I'm older...shoot, I looked at my arm when I was in the bathroom up there, it's like wrinkly saggin' and yet I go out there and see him blue teeshirt, jeans...don't remember shoes, hair in a traditional cornhusker hank always wears it like that, it's Navajo but it could be apache, something I don't know, my instincts say Navaho...but you know, asking for trouble I tell myself, am I? I don't think feeling that nice about someone is trouble, what I think is it always gets yanked away from me somehow so I'm very afraid to let it happen again and yet I know this is what I want...to tame this bad boy? eh...what's a bad boy?  well...I'd have to be real with him, that's probably a challenge, I have no self-image...you know, like you think women are supposed to feel good about their bodies, I like mine, it's soft, curvy, kind of svelte, swanky, something...I can dance...I love to dance, I like my face, but would he?  I don't even know my indian roots but I think there's some in the french canada place my family won't talk about so maybe there's the tears...I can't be who I've been told I am not...something like that maybe, but no, I never let anything get in the way when I feel as I do but I saw myself doing that, just like asphalting the path to sitting right there on his lap, which is where I would have been, sobbing on his chest, 'I have a crush on you!!' how good I am to hide it...why should he know...well I went to his house one day to tell him not to bring fish to the seniors...and he was wearing only a towel and I thought when I was upclose with him...I don't like this guy like THAT?   but there he was sitting right across from me and I knew I did...and I went home and cried about it...so frustrated...really frustrated...his number is in my contact list...I could just call him, say hay, I do...have a big lumpy wet noodle of a longing for you...a bright bird on a wet beach, a cloud coming in with too much rain...a history of a shared land...maybe I'm a first person as well...I wouldn't know I feel tears that must be it, someone in my family history is a bastard way back...we could find out, there's the ancestry thing going on I could find out...I think they buried it well though, I may never know...I shouldn't go on about that, my father is six years in the grave and never spoke of it just like Grandpa Hummel would never talk about being at the gates of Belsen Belsen when the US Army opened 'er up...and he never did...would I?  would I speak about this really strong pulse of heart, just like my wholel left side where the heart is...bigger stronger, man the type bounces big and small...hehe...going on and on...that's the one...but when you get him up close and inspect his pores, are they going to please you...you get up close and you're like eyuwww, that's the guy?  and you know if you don't spell it out, seek it out, you're going to do like I did, and go home and cry your eyes out because

you didn't...

Falling out of Love with the King of the Jews..eh/Hapsburgs...

that would be enough right there..blatting that out...in many ways, but there it is, the old and comfortable me that never had to argue a point with you...now that was something...the key of forgetfulness has its drawbacks..I don't want to be around that person hehe...another one born..he was very happy in there..he was
absolutely insane of course
and didn't know why
it would be his own
but he cannot declare a ruin..as he chews on my ankle like a little, dreadful raspberry thorn
who has come in
for the winter
he'd better earn his keep
the fuck
anyway...that's the part I fix...I'm amazing
you're amazing, I hate those words
but you get the drift
I could talk to you anywhere
but the really raw flesh part..seems a little farfetched at the very bestinh
but ter it is...kind of juicy goodness a last page
that would be all that would be..if I didn't know this
somehow that works to my favor
and what a secretary
I should be mounting Everest there but you know
I haven't even lit my whatever..
interesting, eh?
no better verbage than the x meowmmmmmmmMM as it, the kitten
purrs and kneeds in my lap I feel that intimacy with my children
quite a copasetic integration of emotions, all at once
dare the verbage..
I've seen him take the animal and discombust it...that was enough
so
off with the Italic, if it were
I quoted Machiavelli to my son..
that was an interesting exchange
the bear meats the mother
I couldn't spell it right
and there it was laid open worse than pudding
to describe it as an abnormal psi factor would be more eloquent
as it feels as though I might lay upon the sky for a moment
with my beloved
which I just did
the air is rendolent with that cosmic sigh

The title escapes me

I sneeze several tmes berginning this post and I don't worry about the corrections....I was taught that you CORRECt them, but I'm not...this time..  I've been to the firehall meeting this past evening.  I thought to catch up with my new friend afterward...the SHIFT SERGEANT...who apparently has two nice vehicles, one a SUBURBAN with which he hauls home every other weekend his 'travel trailer'...and I don't get that, he works for DOC, they do a 40-hour a week shift and he's getting every other weekend off to go to his home in Hoquiam...where I think, where I think...he probably has a wife and kiddos  'a 17 year old daughter' he says.  I saw his preparations for leaving and there was an extensive collection of liquor bottles, a fresh case of wine...he does do that, he admits..DRINK TOO MUCH.
well...I suppose it's an occupational hazard, having been a military (ewess) sniper in Afghanistan.  He has a look of one dumbfounded...speaks slowly...and his partner in crime, the eminent doofus, shuffle in...has had it all along, the Direct Operating System confusion syndrome...when you're in the cold war but that's supposedly long over.  and you've come home again and you're not sure where you were, but they tell you the Sun Also Rises...like you do, and that you're still alive...even though you've taken care of good 'ol Assif's arse...and there's a woman sitting on the bar stool next to you who is available...but there's a pitcher of beer there too...and that looks pretty good.
So that's the common sense side of all of this, but there's another, there's the pretty much irritating factor that causes the creating of Ashton, Karin's at age 47...which I've figured out from my own point of view is the purpose of a gun by the name...if I'm smoking...and there is where the criticism of well I don't even know how to describe it but it's nothing to do with autoexecutor states or direct operating systems, it's the blatant subversion of them...like the car, the Sub burr BAN..and the fact the guy who lived in my house for nearly a year, had a kid there and never paid a dime of rent is now again living rent free in another house down the street and just got himself a Nuked 'r'...which I seen lookin' out da winda from the Ojeda place...and I hear he 'has lice'...hmmm. I'm a bit upset about it, of course...lookin' forward to my own relaxtion and recreation in another hour or so with the typical piece of meat I get handed that I never truly enjoy other than to know the intention is good...hehe
my neighbor from the other house is walking hand and hand with a new woman..a real pretty woman..and we're standing around looking at one another going 'what happened to Leanne'??
there was a Leanna in my class in high school here, she had teh same name as the electrical supply company in Port Angeles...go figure my house is ALWAYS cold...grousing...
we hit a grouse on the way back from town the day we carried the swingset to the other neighbors..the ones sent here directly from the 'green crow'...green cow..moss crowing moss on the roof...trying to be...getting really 'fat'..really fat..need to be in tops..
i LET out a deep breath..italics resists being changed up...I think about CUBA..and then there's the subtle threat at the meeting...I don't even say it was at the firehall..because 'that one' is big time in charge there...the fat green cow..really fat...really rub your face in it, remember we were once friends until my daughter swiped your purse...and you lost your cars and your house and now I have it ALL??  remember that...house the courts determined that it is no speech impediment to blame it all on the wrong guys?  while we get the new stuff and continue our merry way doing what we do...which I guess in a prison full of males would be to assault one another anally in the middle of the night...I guess..I guess that's why I haven't had the sensation of penetration or what you call that when you don't use your fingers but the blessed event of the spousal arousal..I guess...that's never bin but it was guaranteed a long time ago..lying in the tall grass of Massapaquaan during the conference on intersteller peace...so would the legend say...it attempts now...and I feel grief that someone who was so close..well I guess I knew always that they were not..strangling the cat...beating the daughter (so she would steal, you should hear baby daddy's version of THAT, ahem...)
we've got so many cloaks on, we dont know who we are..and it's three thirty in the morning and I wake up worrying about it because almond's driving the truck now..but what truck is that if it still sits there thumbing its nose at us and Uncle Sam and all his two dollar bills appears to be his sidekick?  or is that TOLSTOY telling another tale and Uncle Joe sitting on the ripe meow?  Uncle Joe's not really sure he HAS it but he'll send in the clowns...I guess that'd be that fellow that um...uses his fingers...to create the sensation of rape...oh yeah, he's good at that..my spine twinges..the pain goes deep, it's like there's nothing there...inside...when he does that.
anyway...if they want to be dopplegangers, I say, the hell with them..we're in a new dimension here in Hewlett Packard...we have inside out and outside in...we don't f around...we believe in love and that's it...try to mess with us and we bounce back.  well...in new Suburbans and so forth, yeah...I don't get how I'm good friends with the parents of this chump, but I am and we don't talk about his son ripping me off to the max but we don't, and supposedly he's giving me the macros bit by bit, what it is about...and yet...the site of the new suburban...while my little truck remains stationary because the transmission has gone defunken...oh, you can't buy it yet I have to get a tranny...oh well, have this..well  DENNIS yeah dennis again...a favorite stuffed doll of the daughter beater...you know...they never beat the son that I'm aware of...but the daughter, bloody noses and black eyes, yep..because she talked back...is it any surprise now that she wears a habit (first of all it was the TRIAGE...now it's the guys with the disks from the third reich who think that means that you just be whoever the phlegm you want to be)...and they are doing that because the first new cd I tried to record on went boomo right off the bat...that's how you know..and that new Suburban, after having the house foreclosed because oh yeah that same new Suburban guy was taking over the mortgage and a week before foreclosure he's like 'it's all going to be taken care of in a week'..WELL YEAH IT WAS, WASN'T IT?
and this warrants him a new vehicle while both of mine are battered and nearly dead? huh..and I'm friends with his parents?  hmmm...something not right here..then the looming warrant from Ed Anderson ...got something for you to sign..guess they'll send me over another fat boy to whom I can confide my misery..oh that reminds me, I should brush my teeth before he gets here...like I'm looking forward to a three inch schizzle with no pop...
he's got about as much skill in the satchel as the formidable octopus has sliding through the opening in the rock...he gets in there and geez lookit all the eggs in the fridge...which I just gave a dozen of to the people next door...the Suburban financers apparently as my house apparently sold for less than half of the asking price...what it was worth and all...imagine that...and you can't sue these people because after all they have lived next door to you for going on thirty years and you should have known from the start that the reason it sat vacant five years before you got it was that you couldn't live next door to these people and survive...it was, after all, them who told you about Diana Spencer Townsend...motor accident during separation from Charles...
well maybe it's a good thing...there's not to be more than one of me when the Massapequaan event unfolds, right?  that is what I believe...but this really makes my stomach churn, how it develops, how the servants are making all the wrong decisions because there's no one in charge...and they might be able to make fat boy say the right things...like ''I'm the MAN' which yeah is what he is when he spends the other two months of his time since I last saw him over at his common-law wife's house (well, he did get a little fudgy on that a while back when he admitted he had been with her)...he said not in the beginning...but it's not true...not if little conripoff artist is driving around new new SUBURBANS...and my cars don't run at all...and my house is foreclosed and apparently been sold for less than I paid for it...and I supposed to talk to a woman in forks named P.A.T. about all this but of course the preacher got to the book because he had the key..and that was the plan of action on the BANYON program...the plants in the yard, even the little one Inda gave me...the plum..well I guess they all burned up now...the lillies, the peonies, the roses...never could keep a whatchamacalit by the front door because it would go as soon as the neighbors woke up in the morning...the tulips...they got those first thing as a consequence of the Nuremburg trials...someone must pay...what'shisface was right about the communists...and so was the other thing about the kite runner...if you don't wear it as an armor..and perhaps that's what you must do..and I know they don't over there, the cat stranglers...that's what they are and it's obvious
I was walking in...I heard them grilling her like bacon...she was back peddling, figured I'd be the ticket out...and sure enough...I come back after a hello to MT...and it's all good..I'm the bad guy..never fails, even with family...you resolve the dispute and you put it on me...how?  pretty much scorn and what...ostracism...funny how that word sounds like auschweitz..you know me and two sons had a life there in a past life according to shirley mclean's brand of believability...well, I don't like being in the same room with that great cow and because she wasn't at church on sunday I gotta hear it again about how I didn't get certified yet so I can't ride on a call with anyone but her so she can tell me what to do and yell at me if it's not right...I can't train this dog...I don't want to..it would be cruel...the dog world told me so what about three years ago..enough man...let Jeff Bridges take over this end of it and let them all stare at goats over in Afghanistan...they don't beat me, they drive Suburbans in my face and let some monkey take the church key door to my house and inhabit it...a house I paid for about three times now I reckon...and never did own...but so and so...ashton?? got a new Suburban out of it...a coupe aire
talk about your insults..that's how I found out they weren't going to be at Michelina Haus any more...hehe...at a baby shower...'shall I pack this for you?'  pack it, where are you going?  we're moving to Beck house...beck means stream in Scottish...heh...so...are we confused yet...not really...we're grilling pork like it's on sale and then suddenly the whole room is pork, ever had that happen?  not lately, hmm...and you haven't been certified...because enough pork in the room and you will be certifiable all right...that's how it goes, when even Uncle Sam is sitting there with a bowl of borscht...and all the people rescued by 911 are just clones of the same to reinforce the same ...that's how it goes
I never yet seen them intervenous technicians on board get one in...but I have seen them cause more pain to someone actually suffering...and there's where my ping pong ability comes in pretty handy...but they figured it out and roped me in...so I don't get to do much of anything for anyone who really needs my help...which is not unlike the situation in Afghanistan...apparently Earth's been compromised by the outcome of the triage...apparently russkaya has learned the short cuts of disking and clones up whatever smells like poop...hehe...such logic...and nowhere in there is the Massapaquaan legend...just the energy of that first embrace used to insulate a tender rectal portal...I should think my daddy would be a little angry about that...according to exposure rates on being in the same room with the fat cow...daddy doesn't exist but lives happily in New Zealand and once in a while gets caught throwing phones at gay receptionists over a scottish strumpet who looks suspiciously like Caroline Molivadas
and there's been a few of those
I just can't get over the new Suburban thing..he can't be paying rent to Beck...I don't see it...I don't see what I'd say to him either...gonna take care of it huh?  get my house foreclosed so you and sweetie pie can hang at Murray's on the Canadian channel early mornings with Bob Mackowitz (no more)...parading around slip point holding hands...that ain't LeeAnn..
rhymes with the big fat boy on his way here...geez that's the both of yahs..because what he got ain't the pool stick or the rackdup...whatever...fat is all he is...once in a while I feel a hug come thru..the grass whispers in the wind, that's all..and it's been two months...over that...no one knows about him..he never existed...although wait a minute, I did tell the cow...and she said 'watch out he's an alcoholic'..oh yeah, that shift sergeant, there's the alcholic for you...hehe...I guess that one worked out..no, I"m probably way overloaded from nothing comforting and what else...I guess I don't get to be in the ambulance crew because they just don't like me there because I don't eat borscht..
I better quit griping and get ready for the three hundred pounder...if in fact he even shows up...remember to zip my lip...don't give him a turn driving the Suburban...I can be all angry about this but it's been ongoing for a while..back to Profumo and Keeler...that's where the disks turned american suburbia into the nightmare of conformity, the overpopulation of the world...the inability to find planets to colonize...well yeah, we're not getting off this one till we get it right...comrade..do I hate you?  I eat chicken...beef...hmm...salmon?  I guess I know my direct operating systems and how to actually land on a new world...if my landing disks are in the priest's pockets...I don't think you really thought about that much, Mikhail...eta leiza...sumia butcha..so..if there's no Massapaquaan..at least in this life I knew there was..or I might have been happy with the television show character, Cavanaugh/Meints com Ritter et whatever else there was...confusing but realistically happy there for a bit..and somewhat never since or if at all...it feels as though..or perhaps that's his defeat, and just a bit of flatulence on the part of Baryshnikov...maybe...I know here at Willison Cottage I don't have a dance room like I did at Michelina Haus, perhaps that's the suffering element..that I don't do that or perhaps it is destined to be the basement..it certainly can't be the garage..there was a fine dance studio en process at michelina haus..there isn't here although the gallery would suffice if it were possible...only the aches remain and Nureyev contents Fonteyn as he always did do..and she is marbleless...I just looked..

so warm today it's hazy

fall is in the air, the swuash is getting ripe, my neighbor is coming back from his garden with arms loaded, the leaves are falling into the fields and the highway...it has happened...but today is a day for remembering the warm summer breeze because it's delightful out of doors.  the deck is warm and sunny and the kitchen door is open, where I sit at the computer watching the daisies along the sidewalk wave in the sunshine and the breeze.  I've been to lunch with my mother and brother at the Sekiu Community Center.  I brought scalloped potatoes and a black berry pie.  I picked the berries this morning, the scalloped potatoes I made with about ten peeled and sliced white potatoes, a half cup of flour, quarter of a stick of margarine, salt pepper and basi...I layered the potatoes, sprinkled flower and powdered milk dotted with butter, two layers then poured water over it and baked in the oven for an hour and a half, then pulled it out and sprinkled cheddar cheese on top and toasted that, covered it in foil for the trip to the Sekiu Center, and they pretty much gobbled it up.  The pie was a great success as well and I sent home that and the potatoes with my brother and mother.  The pie consisted of crust, four cups of berries, one and a half cups of sugar and about a half cup of flour, could have had more flour for the thickening it was a little runny but definitely sweet enough which I thought maybe it wasn't because I picked a lot of berries that were not squishy ripe.  They were the Himalayan black berry with the seed.  It was good stuff.
House is kind of quiet without any foster kids here at the moment.  The ones I've had this summer have either taken off on their own or were escorted by the police.  The last one was quite disturbed and his social worker was working on getting him a psychiatric bed last I heard.  He was diabolical...I told him that was his name 'Diabolical'.  He was eleven.
My son in Bellingham is having some issues which I'm hoping he's going to work out.  He hasn't talked to me since I was over there and that was the funny story in my other blog about the trip back.  I just hope he's ok.
Other than that I should go visit next door at the gallery and see what's going on there...It does feel rather like nap time at the moment but I'm getting up and going out the door...watch me...