really wanted to be at the inauguration...

somehow I missed out bigtime not walking around DC looking in the shop windows (there's not the cool marketing there is on Kings Highway in Brooklyn, that's for sure...can't think of anything anywhere that speaks to the mind of a bargain hunter like myself in a place like DC..there it's all about the museaums (what twenty dollars a pop to get in the National Gallery of art now, I wouldn't be surprised....)  reall m in donal

so the real DOnal is from Scotland and he's wiggly like a trout, ran around with a two inch (hard) dick, big body like a wook with two cigarettes on...couldn't find that hammer anywhere but then there's this little piece of GP fluff that thinks that's the ticket and she pushes and shoves her way into the overkill thing (Killary Killary ...Killian.rhymes.floodchair..you got it)
nobody needs to know the guy has no dick but we got it on tape in my one and only cheech and chong flick...sumpinsumpin man...what's his face really says it 'you have no dick'...yay, gimme back my what? GP...not even gonna say please..

he's taken it on...that's the lumber, I'm fulla breakfast, tired...got up too early (all week)...not sure how to get home from the demo today...fuckin' car...

I wanted to go to DC...I really wanted to have a drink at Madams' Organ...well, guess she didn't want me there...I wouldn't have phased the politics, I would have cast the fine oil on the direct operating systems...better go check the news and see where they at this morning, big parady is on...might be interesting...that's the thing SHE didint tell me about...good olK.ate

overtired at 5 am...

need to walk out and get firewood, can see my breath read and alice mcdermot story very sweet with some overtones of kinda sludgey...kid gets leukemia kid's not too solid older cousin is very sweet kind resourceful and so on but let's a 70 year old dude pop her cherry...why???  nothing about lust and passion and so on...more about department store ethics in the sale of one's most precious parts...
quite disappointing but otherthan that a good find...how not to write a good book

thirty dollars a quarter for virus upkeep??

I'm jiust used to having to pay through the nose for ebryting...love that tinsil the tonsil of archaic hebrew ...the yiddish...should be italicized but so what...is human beings talking...rambling here
kind of yahoo ya yay yay...I guess reading tom wolfe will do that to yas...kind of a funny book that one...best line since elmore leonard 'are you up for finding a waxed moustache in a herd of whores??'
I just love it...makes me feel like humor is not dead
unlike our president elect
who looks as though he is
and we're talking about meeting up at his new stomping grounds and raising some holy hell in our inemitable way (look up inenimitable..whatever I mean there means that yes, we all blew in and did our peace for days on end when ronnie and georgie -named a dog after that guy - way back to tom nixon and co..well I guess I helped lay the groundwork on that exploit - and how can you have your kids running the company when you can give them ebri tip in da book to see dey gets it ripe??
going to be watching with meathooks tenderlois and magnifying glasses up the yin and the yang..considering which I gave most a dat op to be wher eI am now, headed down the pike to see if we can play in the corn pasture with all the sendentaries that think it was a good idea to make America a GRAPE again
ask my surrounding forest about the fruit without a 'g'...ask 'em
ask 'em if they ever gonna tell we forest on different worlds and we gotta back our block with more of the g without the fruit...you know...that??
we're goin'...we're goin' into the sunset being ridiculous wearing what I was thinking about falling asleep last night, my sailor's wool pants for one, prolly lots of knitted caps all around I made with wegwarmers (read wigwams eh?) and uggs if nothing else because dey kool...it was about being cool in a cold world, not totally a pastichen because I stood in front of the shop window absolutely starving down to the pit of my belly and then took my last six bucks (even then it was six bucks for wunch)...and bought their potato soup and what 'blota'...liverwurst on white rye...so I'd be sustained
gotta say this next Rusdie book is kind junken...my word






that's how it was back in the way that's what blew it up going gaga for dana and using him now as my everloving password every time I make a purchase with my darn ol debit card..'dana' dana dana...
should a bin Donnie Politte aka Donald Trump ie...is who he is but definitely sabotaged by the one an only vee knows who..who masquerades as the Queen of Egypt and it is about  Queens isn't it and does ol Donnie Boy have the knards to tackle the ball isn't he really schottish? I tink so...we used to get so fried up together and he'd be pitt and varnish half the night talk about grapes then he'd get up at 3 am to cut a few more he was a terror and I know first hand about that but once he gave me seventy bucks to takee a tlhhe said he wanted me to be his relief pitcher in case the Queen was snippin' 'em too close and' said I WANNAGET PAID and guess what his sweet little tucker hasn't been seen or herd of in these parts ever since but once in a while the fisherman NKD shows up and gets a wham bam thank you mam and I noticed wiping my coosh one day recently after he'd been in for a tuneup that there was this yella glob a her smish in my twat drip as if it were going to set up housekeeping there and turn into chicken fry steaks all around for what's left of DOS in USSR...that's what
what's what


been watching the knews via time machine...keebord flipped upside down and backward keping up with my toilet habits/bedmaking fingerfreezing morning ttying to decide what's for breakfast after a big chicken fry last night seems like a grapefruit would be in order as there's potluck lunchies

so meantime back to the ranch why it's important to be ther when Donnie gets shacked to the Queen for good...he's been rubbing it in my face for the last few years used to be we'd meet for the night maybe at his house dance naked drink smoke pot his 'coach' gave him he was a footballer then prolly still is 'the eagles' he laughs I'm supposed to understand the wicked grape part isn't him and I'm the doc doin  the brain sturgenry

maybe he just wants to knoww that I know that the last few hundred years of unfaithmen have all met with the same fate, small balls and no dick

so am I accusing him of actually running with the Queen, nah...he's a good enough egg in his own way I gotta do some cleaning of some places this am I was thinking before I collect my twash and serve it up (lasagna, mac salad, fried chickens maybe..this keyboard likes to just the keys and land the words elsewhere from where they belongen

getting more a handle on it but fingers are numb purely ramifications here brad goom jan goom Russell are all yelling for me to throw their names in the ring was Russell always was the hunk in the Donnie oh yeah, what a serious issue of a man and how the scarecrow is going to hold the office with the glubber at the wheel is what I see about make America Grape again was so mad election night rallied the troops to get out der an fite and hopefully burnie knows what that is all about knows about the serious man thing and how that is the most precious element of all of this LEGEND and bowie and so on make it right make it America the Grape into the future not make sense my sensimillia

and so on...there's work to be done for sure and we're heading into the sky on the wings of flight find that this afternoon we will...according to the great world of GARP and so forth yeah...here it goes luxury abounds in the principles of Eden and we'll listen to the STanding Rock people on that one
all elected...rambling...it's about Donnie and the Queen man..we made it and we hate how we got here and we endured many nights of her trying to find the tissue and coming up with that one little yellow spookum and proclaimed for all the world when the egg fell out of me an Georgie...

hear I iss...

and I hope this is weird enough to understand because I wish to be there when it all comes down to nothing like they don't think I understand what taking out the Great Wall brick by brick means?????
I did my time man..I was there and he was wiff me ebry step a da way...thank you dylan thank you DH

amen Jesus I'll make sure I make mass when I'm back in DC...promise, if I stay that long I'll go to St. Matts it's on the way in fact I'll go there to say a prayer because it was a haunt of mine day and night a prayer in a pew...used to be wide open maybe no so anymore on the steppe then?  hehe

everybody line up for DOS!!!liberation is at hand....

we're passing out tickets for one way to Mars...get off this planet before the Alder represent the current world...meanwhile...
they don't call me kweenofkaos for nuthin...

I sit belonely

well I don't know what happened to the header here but it's gone...went out to the cranberry farm yesterday...came home made banana bread and that turned out pretty good..  sad to find Onyx had been hit by a car and howling in the berry vines across the street, he's in a box by the fire and doesn't look good at all...then I got a text from the S10 guy who sold the truck to someone else yesterday..  I was kind of sad to know that what he had told me on Thursday wasn't going to happen after all..actually that was Wednesday we agreed I would buy the truck and shook hands on it.  He said he wouldn't sell it to anyone else at that time.  But he did, so now I have to put the money in the bank and keep looking.  I hope it was all for the best, that the truck wasn't going to run well anyway and I would be up to my ears in repairs.  MEanwhile the Civc overheated on the way back from the bank Friday and we had to sit at the side of the road until it cooled down.  I added a little antifreeze but am worried that I need to get a new oil filter in 'er or I'll mess up the parts in the engine, duh...one thing and another...civic is running pretty good and I can go on as I am doing for now but as far as driving down to Mesa or something like a big road trip to DC is absolutely out of the question at this point...Have close to two thousand saved for a better car but of course now Onyx looks like he needs surgery and it's time to get ready for church so enough speculating...Not the spectacular Christmas I envisioned when I made the truck deal but probably was out of my league repair wise so why not get on with it and see what else comes up...that's the way to take a set back..meanwhile pray for kitty to recover.

climbing into the blankets with a good book

there should be cookies but I deliberately put them elsewhere
although there's a bunch in the visitors' center
just waiting to add flesh to my poundage..
and salad greens going wilted in the fridge
a long cord dangling on the floor reminding me that all is not well in the

I should not think of penuche
or the shores of lake erie
back in the day when that slogan keep the earth green
was handpainted and worn as body art

the wind churns up...I'm obliged to be nestatory
without a snack save for popcorn...
freeze to death?

not likely although definitely a dreary proposition..

more observations of the Hoarders' ethic

it was brought to my attention that an actual hoarder combines trash with his treasurers...that there's a lot of tinsel in with the googaw/actual collections so that it overcomfits the springboard of the bipolar manic depressive quality of the reasoning...he's not obsessively compulsive so much as he is inundated by possessions...he gets a headache upon trying to organize them in a rational fashion..he goes for the toss into the pile, along with the balled up trash that should have gone out but he's not going to go out...because he's agorphobic at that point and is as content to stay at home in the deluge of things rather than to approach the outdoor atmosphere with the cleansing sense of fresh air that meets him in any case...possessions take the place of people in his life..he layer states all of what he brings into the domicile, he knows where things are but they have no actual position in his environment because he dedicates nothing to anything other than to the actual point of its being in his sphere of origin/with him at that moment these things are like so many snowflakes he has captured and held silent in time, not melting, collecting dust, buried in the treasure of his private world...it becomes a part of him he can shed when he actually does walk out the door but let no man tread where he does, this is his space...he alone can define and inhabit  it...it is far beyond clutter what he has..but he has so much...he is the true element of wealth because he is becoming buried in his possessions, as much as he would like to say otherwise...there it is...he has captured his universe and is holding it hostage no doubt because of a singular experience in which he was called out for his covetousness...
there's a fragility to the hoarder in which he continues to live his own nightmare...and how to wake him up?  stay tuned...

the office

it's been an uphill struggle..getting a futon into the office and putting things where they go...so many things are in a jumble..need to go through my desk(s)..sort out what's in those and get ready for the cable guy to come.  He'll hook up a flatscreen tv on the file cabinet and then there will be news and PBS again after about four years or more..little by little it has all come together...the problem having been allowing my  young neighbor to move in there before I did...and then when I did, well..there were two housepayments to make and no renters in either space but me living in studio in the new one and going  home to cook for the foster son at the other one...what a rat race that was..

now I'm reading Phillip Roth...I tell ya that Portnoy's Complaint is a sheer ball of wax...couple with that I watched Showtime story The Affair and it ended abruptly with the teacher guy Solway going to the clink because he killed the man who got his funky daughter pregnant..really?   when he did he do that?  he's last seen sitting with the woman Alison he had the affair with and she's got a haircut and doesn't look like a fatlipped teenager anymore and then there's a knock on the door and off goes daddio to jail for murder...never saw it coming, about the worst portrayal of some kind of murder mystery I ever watched...the sex was raw, breathing exercises throughout...other than that, poorly developed character's like Alison's hubby, once seen on Dawson's Creek about 95 years ago...some guy who's like really brutal to Alison in t he beginning, looked like rape to me..but there it was..watched this crummy story for a couple nights while reading Portnoy's Complaint inbetween that's probably what did it, one was truly awful as the other, but now I'm on another Roth book and it's called Indignation, so far so good, a lot more character development and a lot less insufferable complaint about childhood...I hope Roth doesn't think he's the only one with parents who were overboard with the dire predictions and so on...my father once referred to my budding chest as the 'two growths on  my chest'..in front of my four little brothers aged 12 and younger, who immediately sniggered...and I'm still living down the humiliation from that experience...so Portnoy share the stage with the rest of us...I got my head shaved when I was 15 (about) because I didn't want to cut it, I wanted it to grow long...my mother had my dad drag me into the kitchen and they cut my hair while I sobbed on the kitchen floor...it's not brutality it's being a teenager...it's how it is and if you survive sometimes when you're an adult you think about walking off a tall bridge or just never getting out of bed again...something...but you don't...because today the sun shined here and that's never a good time to be melancholy...so I'm not melancholy but Roth's words don't hit home with me either because I as well made my parents proud getting good grades and so on...I did it for myself because I knew I had to achieve things, I had an agenda..I knew when I was a couple years older no one was going to tell me how to wear my hair and until then I best do what I could to stay under the parental radar...haircuts...exactly what do they mean??

let's ask Vidal Sassoon what he thinks: