Thoughts, ramblings, and rants on… well anything.



The Day Is My Enemy. Good album. Give it a listen, I suspect you won’t regret it. Unless that’s not your sort of thing.
The Prodigy.
Beers and beats. Raw meat and dirty sheets. A cat scratch fever only taken care of with
a little more cowbell.
Just need a little more
jokes aside, there was a time when
chicken fucker, can’t go back now. How’s that for entertainment? Click
stroke that comment from the record immediately. Eargasm.
Oops, so much for artistry. Benign boners and all I can think to do is get another beer.
so that’s just what I’ll do. But, man. This song is really good.
the problem is, I keep walking around aimlessly. ain’t no good.
Was that a double negative? Does it matter?
Is anyone even reading this? Hello.
Are you out there?
what your
mama gave you
there’s more to hit my ears. you’re not hear so you can’t relate. It’s too bad, there’s a cold one in the fridge for you.
Whoever you are.
Cocky cranky gob shite, why aren’t you still on the corner of 33rd?
Eh, who cares. It’s not like you have to read this again. At least, I hope not.
Snot, rot, cot, spot, lot, shot, got,
you got, got.
and a tender smile crosses my face. haven’t we had enough of this?
I thought you left this internet game?
a shame, to some, probably not. just giving my hands something to do since there is no one hear to enjoy the music with. a shame. a damn shame. oh, well. hell, here’s something to bite on.
tippy, tap, type, s’alright to experiment
with chimps canoodling in fruit trees, evergreens maybe, see what I told you about following a
wizard? a warlock? time stops but only momentarily, I don’t need this cigarette necessarily, but I’ll smoke it anyway.
just a shame. a damn shame. jesus, have you made it this far?
if I wasn’t clear earlier this isn’t the scene you’re looking for. wait, what? what the fuck am I talking about? Aboot? I am Canadian after all. but don’t hold that against me. or below me. or above me. ask Steve. He’ll tell you I’m a stand up guy.
Fuck, I just hit these keys in “proper” succession and bam! pow! words. words words everywhere. symbols, perceived by you.
but only if you’re still here.
how does my voice sound in your head? what does it sound like? could you tell me please?
curious is all, and I’m not worried about what happened to that cat.
dumb fucker shouldn’t have crossed the street.
hoot, says the owl. good night, I can see again. this electric pen jotting down all the details, and without fail, unless from human error, the player continues spinning plastic and fantastic sounds surround me completely. apologies to those sleeping, but
you know. it’s saturday night. where’d the capitals go? it’s easier this way, wouldn’t you say?
agree with me and we can take a walk down to the bay. feeble wordplay won’t entice an audience, cupcake.
one more track, and it hits like a brick.
god damn, good thing I’m sitting down. no, I take that back. on my feet. dancing.
at least I am considerate enough to put words together and string them in a mostly coherent way, no?
no, I’m sorry. you should probably just stop. or put the music on and join me.
fuck, where am I going with this? Oh right, just keeping my fingers busy. At your expense I guess. But only if you’re still reading. Daffodils. Whatever happened to those daffodils?
Next album of the night…
Oh, fuck this is great. Might not have to continue this rubbish. puff, puff,
away she goes, down the drain, round and round
but you couldn’t have predicted that, could you?
isn’t it great? these sounds. these beautiful sounds.
oh, right. it’s just me here.
it’s 11:11 PM, make a wish
I hope you read that line at 11:11 PM. wouldn’t that be a trip?
Oh, I guess you couldn’t have tonight. You missed the moment. But maybe
you didn’t?
Blah, blah, blah, not a lot of sensible sentences being constructed. reluctant to stop, however, the measure of a man’s worth is somehow tied to his girth, right? flip side of this coin could lead to head, but most likely a tail between the legs. there isn’t much to keep going on and yet the words continue to be applied by pressing pressing on and on. just a ket stroke and a button click and whiz, bang, pow! it’s here for your eyes to see.
but only if you’re here. how many times I gotta say that? I don’t know. I’m drinking.
Sod off. wait, don’t go. I don’t exist without you. my co-author.
take my hand and have this dance. balls, wwhat am I rambling on about? question after question, and for what? are you going to talk to me?
the bass thumps on. and there goes that train of thought, drowned under another gulp, of,oh, poo. you cheated.
not you, me. oh, right. the pi
eight hundred and sixty
odd words here. you still with me?
did you see what I did there? I need another beer.
we’re staying alive.
and it’s alright, it’s okay
even though I’m going nowhere. somebody help me out.
boot stompin’ good time, I tell you what. hey, I know this song.
I think. you stink, why bother going on with this? I totally know this song. It’s fucking great.
wish you were hear.
then again,
I don’t need to type anymore.
The music is too good.


The end…

Done with this blog.

Three morsels have been left for memory:

1) One of my poems

2) An essay I wrote in University

3) Two images I am quite fond of, courtesy of the interwebs

This isn’t the outlet I’m looking for.

Be well.

Muppets fucking…

I typed “Muppets fucking” in the Google search bar.
was incredibly disappointed with the results.
I love the Muppets, don’t get me wrong,
but doesn’t a part of you, too, want to see
Muppets fucking?
Miss Piggy fucking the shit out of Kermit the frog.
and you know it would be her doing the fucking.
you think Kermit is the dominant one in the sack?
picture it now: Kermit the frog, spread eagle over the bed,
Miss Piggy thrusting a giant strap-on directly into him.
it’s not easy being green.

WTF? A look at the relationship between…

*Note: The following essay concerns the work of Tomomi Adachi, which can be viewed above. Read the rest of this page »