Sunday, November 18, 2001

i need to write things.
this is the way to begin.
wish i wasn't twitching so go
i need to eat cheerios.

black skin. brown skin. i have neither. at least i'm also know as the rose garden maestro pageant brigade winner of 1997. people love me the world over in some parts of the other portion of the world that we all know and cherish.
haiku is for haiku freaks. they are all mean to me. therefore, i don't like them. because i'm a reactionary person. and there's nothing i like more than to put people down for all the wrong reasons, and i don't want reasoning at all. especially while running the naked mile.

i just remembered the time i egged the band in rockford. now that was a chilling night of ecstasy.
or the shirt i made at reptile with the nin reference. or the man who wanted to beat me up because i wouldn't play the same song. or the time i got sick while alex patterson was playing. or the time i went down the street to the illegal club whose name i can't recall and enjoyed cookies and milk on the couch with young oysters in search of hamstring glee.
video killed the radio star. in my mind and in my car. put the blame on vcr. oooooh, radio starrrrr.

today i did nothing. sunday is a hard day to do something. like things i have to do now. but i can't because i'm not doing that.
instead i'm doing this. while craving vanilla, coffee but not together necessarily. other things occupy equal time and space but then again, who really cares when you've got motor love? and bicyclists don't want to talk about the other real dangers of snow skiing. which is significant in this climate, economy and stairmaster-crazed society.
instead, we face shortages of the band bread, whose music helped us create a whole new world without michael jackson as a special guest star. he is special but in a short bus kind of way.
and we all know that's for nonfunctional offspring of cake mongers living in sin with twitching, agonized looks on their faces.
see, cheese makes sense sometimes. but we hoard it. therefore, cheese becomes a commodity. and nobody likes snot, which is what it is if you stop and take the time to smell the roses.

frantic energy fills the air. frantic energy in my hair.
those girls dancing on the little walkway on friday near us during sasha were cool. i like fake sparkly eyebrows i've decided.
stop twitchy for he is not your friend tomorrow.
important messages up for grabs if the price is right.

as much as i love america, i realize it's more important to move to europe than go overseas.
and by that i mean this...don't leave you friends out in the cold while you're sunbathing.
it's better to give others the love you shared with those other people that were once your friends.
i saw portions of back to the future 2 today and that was pretty wild. almost as wild as my offspring.
ha ha funnier than cancer. that's what people have always told me, especially during the last few minutes.
cream colored popcorn never tasted that good anyway.
time to pay the piper as it were. we don't have to take our clothes off...no no. chapter 4. the real saga. before america lost the war on oil to me.

before everything was in its dark place.
which was mixed in the other night as i recall by sasha. smile for me. now get out of camera frame.
should i see my family? will i have to pay small fee? tee hee.
me can you see is full of glee for me
and that was the way it was, before i could remember the other things we shared with each other.
now stop looking ahead to transgressions you have yet to commit.
omit yourself from this chapter and everything will be better.

for the lord is not my herd of sheep, even though he might want to be
he layeth down for awhile in poopy pastures and even better, layeth by still waters to get some drink on
restoring your soul is a priority as well, leading me down some cool path that's so full of righteousness, it's the extra bomb
forever and ever amen, leaving others alone while singing for goats
now if i could get me some of that feta cheese made from goat ass, i'd be swimming in a swine of luxury less taken care of by others that we shared.
fare thee well, good and faithful servant,
for thouest in the house of the tim forever and ever
ton of fun today!
eat blank checks for clandestine therapy.

love,
orange aid creamsicle man

No comments: