Tuesday, March 05, 2002

Lick Day now in order, please move to the rear
Bronchial bath and chloroform calico catch-all now in session

On Saturday, I went to what is known as the �White Elephant� sale in Oakland, just a few blocks from my lovely home. I cannot believe I woke up so damn early, especially after downing a few cocktails and blowing out the bong smoke more than a few times at the gathering at the home of Pippi and Ouchy.

But it was fun, with a little F.
Pretty damn cool, though it does make you feel like you need stuff you don�t necessarily need. I got me some nice vinyl, including children�s records, kitschy-kitschy-kitschy ya-ya-ya-ya-ya rekkids, a nice stack of ripsnorting 45�s, and a good many old school experimental type things (environmental sounds, whale songs, and related flammery). It was a lot of fun going in there and getting shit. The low level murmer of people as they filed their way in, especially when they opened the doors (I�d call it a collective stifled cheer, mixed with impatience and excitement) was awesome.

There was quite a line of people out there. We got there super dooper early, earlier than I should be awake unless I�m tripping balls from an all-night freak fest.

The grumpy woman in front of us kept stepping back and bumping into me and making mean comments directed our way. Bitch. I�ll shove you in the damn inlet (we were right next to it � across it was lovely city that is Alameda). You and your damn hat and shitty attitude.

And, as we were being greeted by several peeps shoving political propaganda in our face, which included this dude Jud Scott who was running for Alameda County Judge and his starry-eyed wife � who was there to shake my hand but Mayor Jerry Brown. So what did I do? Insist he shake my hand. Well, I didn�t actually say out loud �I Insist!� but I stood there and waited for a few seconds while he switched hands and shook mine.

Jerry�s like, old school. He ran for president. His girlfriend was Linda Ronstadt. They used to call him governor Moonbeam or something�wait, he wasn�t governor of Cali, was he? Seems like he was governor somewhere.
Hmmmmm. OK, I did my research. He was governor of California from 1975 to 1982, losing to then Sen. Pete Wilson (who went on to become a really awful governor � he�s well hated).

Seeing ol smiling Jud Scott (his piercing white teeth and dazzling blue eyes are what got me) made me realize I could never do that -- try to please everyone simply to be elected. It�s bullshit. No way. I would piss way too many people off. Then again, that would be kind of fun. I do have this strangely addictive quest to know a lot about politics and government.

�I, Mayor Tim Pratt, do hereby declare all Yuppies will be forced to lick the urine-soaked streets of Mission and 16th for the next two years, until such time as they either: a) cry and give up; b) beg for answers; c) choke on their own vomit; or d) blow up their SUV/MiniVan.
�Also, marijuana is now officially legal. All police are encouraged to smoke while on duty. Prostitution is legal. The Tenderloin belongs to the people! Nudity is authorized to be acceptable everywhere within the city limits, especially eunuchs.�

Work has been kind of hellish lately. Annoying too. But shit, what can I do? It�s getting increasingly difficult to get stuff done while at work. And that sucks. Though I can�t really complain, can I? And I certainly can�t show too much attitude. Damn damn damn.

Nose hairs have a much different texture than other hairs.
Therefore, they are good.

Maybe I need to bring my lunch to work for awhile. I�m not eating very well, of late. Part of that is being out and about at work and in the city. You need food. Sucks.

As I�ve mentioned many times in my five years of existence, there are two things that make me angry, eating and sleeping � very bothersome. I want to skip them entirely.

It makes me so angry � and you wouldn�t like me when I get angry (ha � there�s a funny thing � the Incredible Hulk�s entire premise was based on the idea that whenever his alter ego got angry, he would become this green hulking, uh, HULK. Yeah.

But he�s a GOOD Hulk, see (please pay attention), so his real self � was it bruce banner or david banner? one of those � got angry for the RIGHT REASONS.

OK, now we�re getting somewhere here Junior Brown. And Charlie Brown.

So in a way, it was good that the Hulk became a living separate entity, despite the fact that Banner was forced to walk the streets of America in torment and anxiety, a drifter who moves on from town to town. He was always on the search for adventure and getting involved to help the greater good.

He�s an average citizen�s best friend.

Sure, the Hulk has issues of his own (fuck, he�s green, for Christ�s sake) and that nasty hair-do (ok, my memory is presently serving up many more images of the TV Lou Ferrigno version of the Hulk than the true, much more complex Marvel Comics character � which I never really got into despite my strong affinity for comic books for a few years, but he�s a good guy, just misunderstood by that meddling little reporter, always hot on the Hulk�s trail.

And speaking of comic books, what�s with my whole side of my personality that needs to collect shit? It sucks for me and everyone in my path. I amass large quantities of stuff, for�..i dunno, knowledge�s sake, I suppose.

But there has to be more reasons for it.

I mean, somehow I was able to grift something from the goddamn personality quirk, the whole collecting stuff thing. But I wish I wasn�t so eager to GET everything�I�m such a fucking consumer. I wish I weren�t so much of one, but I am. I need money simply to sustain my lifestyle. It�s so damn true.
I wish it weren�t at least so damn true as it is.

And that�s how it was, before it happened and because the world is flat, not round, like the bad book says.

Him. Oh, whatcha gonna do about him? Ooooh, yeah.
Rupert Holmes � where is that man today?

Hey, did you happen to see the most beautiful girl in the world? And if you did, tell her I�m sorry. Tell her I NEED my baby. Oooh, won�t you tell her? My love.

My DSL always seems to work better at night. I wear my telocity monotony at night. So I can so I can, keep you near my thigh high nylons.

See, if I could just get along without bothersome and annoying things like sleeping and eating, everything would be fine. Punishing duck wants and needs. Quack is right.

There�s a song called �Sometimes When We Touch,� by Dan Hill. I picked that up the other day at the White Elephant sale. Cheese city here I be. Lee. I also got Jermaine Jackson�s �Let�s Get Serious.�

Shitter, all honey, honey. You are my candy girl. And you got me runnin�.

I have a kitty named Troika in my lap. She�s such a night kitty. She�s also such a shedding kitty. I�ve got so much hair in my keyboard, it�s not even funny.

Quatro. Not Suzi.

Cinco De Mayo. Sing along. De Colores.

Kitties are too damn curious sometimes.
Just like I need to get back to the matter at hand.
Abandon all commitment to shoes and paste and everything will be so much better than it was 2-3 minutes ago.
Grandma used to be my friend.

Clucking and clicking,

Curious Carolyn

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