if sex is a pain in the ass
you're doing it wrong

-rodney dangerfield

may his immortal words resonate
for all eternity.

bring me something

change is the best
if it happened everyday there would be no need for periodic drastic change
it would just be consistent, natural, organic, and flowing one event into the next
breakfast lunch dinner
meet greet defeat
i'm loving these new days of noneventfulness and work and routine
with change being something i need not acknowledge
for right now at least
it just happens
and happens
again

i guess today was full. like tuesday or saturday it just came and went and here i am at the end of it, saying "seeya later" and
"what the hell happened today",
retrospect being less than nothing.
a bottle of pinot and who cares about time and circumstance, professionalism, names to remember and
moreover:
who cares about chapters in life
unfolding daily yet not impressing me at all.

and YOU!

you're like gravel in my shoe that follows my footprint everywhere
annoying and still a part of me
and you are together
and you annoy me
and follow me
and leave your prints on my cups and my lips ache
your full mouth dirty and swirling with words
my eyes dropping to the ground imagining with each step your pebble is there!

go away
and yet stay!
stay with me

forever would be the best,
i'm a highschool kid with a flaming case of something.
you gave it to me.
thank you

enough is enough

just fuck off!!!!!

commandments

buy land, cuz god ain't makin any more of it.
yeah, thanks! tell "god" he can kiss my ass...and speaking of land, i'm moving to rural BC, the uncharted part, where no other human vermin can find me.
"god" is happy to let too much slide on this planet, and i'm sick of hearing about it!
with kazillions of hypocrites "praising" him.

pass the hat and grab a brain!
it's time to get realistic:

resources
production
globalization
food
land
water
natural disasters
disease

...we have more important things to think about than what happens after we die.

on earth right now... a creepy world
entire cities built with no one to inhabit them. massive lakes with hundreds of thousands of gold fish and real estate and towers and stadiums and hotels and not a soul inhabiting. i am legend... hold the movie star. talk to china about finance and about starvation- masters of duality, as we here in the western world strive to be, swiping credit cards and hoping no one will notice...where is the money? there is none (for so many), but there are factories. and there is always productivity.
and global takeover.
the chinese are smarter, faster, and
better
than
you.
with ideas and money to make things happen.

one of china's empty cities

let's be honest
money
is god

and
the
house
of
god
is
a
b a n k.

the future of your planet



our world

our problems

such dichotomy should not exist.
and if god existed, he surely would not allow it
or have created a species who does.

the scroll

recently i have been discovered, and outed, by my own media.

i'm not referring to the instantly accessible and vacuous land of social networking,or even emailing or faxing. because faxes are sheets of paper sailing quickly and invisibly through the atmosphere, they are very hard to intercept.
nor am i referring to someone eavesdropping on a phone call or rooting through my mailbox to tear open a secret letter with glee. no sir...
i'm talking about the scroll.

i keep a scroll in a glass tube duct taped to the underside of my bed. glued to the outside of the scroll are several seagull feathers and the skeleton of a minnow for a "message in a bottle" kind of effect- it looks great, and every time i stick my head under there to look i feel like christopher columbus without the hat.

the ship navigates the stormy waters of the subconscious
what is contained in the bottle?

the scroll of my life:
the story of how i grew.

the bottle which popped from my lips as warm, squirming baby.
the screaming in my brother's face at age seven.
_____'s dad's stolen "green death" cigarettes at tweleve. the black woods where we went at night, stupidly, to smoke them.
the virginity that was taken in an almost holy manner at sixteen- the sweat, the candles, the absurdity.
the long road trip at twenty-one. two weeks in the car, never once behind the wheel!
the breakup at twenty-six that goes on and on.
the rain tonight as i walked in my new shoes downtown, umbrella pointing to the sky.

retrospect written in code on the scroll in the glass case of my life under the bed.

these stories have not been written for me, they have been written for you to hear. evaluate, compare and contrast.
ask me anything- i want to tell.
and i want to hear, too.

where do you keep your bottle?