Wednesday, November 10, 2004


Nice to have you back. Good to be here.
Thanks for having me.

So, um, PastTim just sincerely freaked out PresentTim, or, from PastTim's perspective, FutureTim, but that's neither here nor there, or when.


No, really, check this shit out i wrote Wednesday, October 29, 2003, filing said thing about which you will read at 10:59 p.m.

here 'tis:
    "you know, george bush could pull a makaveli (because i can't spell the old school way and i'm too damn lazy to look up the correct one) and have us vote for his pseudo-dead ass because we all feel bad, and then he turns out to be ok.

    like the day after the election, he emerges totally via the strength of knowing a solid 51% of the electorate are behind him (of course, rigged by those touch screens that are heavily funded by GOP monsters - but that's for another day, another struggle in this thing we call life man, fucking a)."

(edited for television)

yessir, i, tim pratt, me, yessir, predicted the damn election.
i should be invited to a think tank right about now.
how DOES one score a think take job, anyway?

damn i need some popcorn. i'm addicted to popcorn of late. of course, i get it for free from a little white ghost who visits me from time to time. haven't seen the tyke in a little while now. but you know, those damn ghosts, always on a different time schedule and dimension than you. never can predict 'em, damn right.

but so anyway...that's pretty rad, i thought. kind of weird. of course, the running polls at the time could have said that and i subconsciously remembered it at that particular moment, right around the same time of night i'm writing this here thingie i'm right here writing right about now.
shazam! i always hated shazam! any superhero that demands you put an exclamation point at the end of his name just sucks.

it's bullshit.

fucking bullshit.

The Kitty is fast asleep right now. She's very tired. She's had a very rough day of being tired.
It's very difficult, being The.

Speaking of, i caught this poet named Cat last night at this spoken word deal at Cafe Royale, a place i had never been before, near Post and Leavenworth. and no, i don't feel like linking the damn thing right now. get your own google search on bitches. so yeah, this girl Cat, she was totally full of herself, but...that's ok. why not? who else will be? she totally surprised me though. i kind of dismissed her as the 'i'm so hip being a spoken word poet and snapping my fingers as a salute to some good 'spittin' rolling forth' type, ya see, but she totally woke my shit up with this harsh anti-republican, anti pro-life crapper type shit, and speaking about her parents in Missouri and such. it just, woke me up.

a bit. we were there to check out Emmanual Ortiz, Tina's activist cousin from Minneapolis who threw down this highly impressive piece about his anger toward the war in Iraq, and oppression of peoples from all over the world. 'A Moment of Silence' is what i would guess it was called.
Fucking intense. i must admit. very good.
he travels out here to SF from time to time to do these types of events. this was the first time Tina and i were able to make it out to one of his shows. which was totaly rad.
and it was doing something different from my normal routine.
which, isn't very normal, i would hazard to guess (as my dad would say, hee - i got pride, yo...respek, west side).


yeah, i'm white sometimes.
but i'm so hip-hop. shit.

you know.

well, yeah, this was good. i don't know what this was.

a spurt. maybe i was spittin'
definitely with the possessive apostrophe, yo.

keep it up

Apostle Pratt Pierre

so sayeth the shepherd, so sayeth the flock...mocka locka cracka lacka macka sacka nacka facka wacka zacka


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