I Can Feel It In The Air Tonight

Oh Lord.

Cooked Spinach Is For Losers

actually, i enjoy fossils

.....

i am listening to kraftwerk.
i am about to go see ADULT.
i am into punctuation.

....
ulrich - the new cd, goodbye, i think the actual released version of the cd will sound better. like...it seems not mastered/engineered in a finished state.

speaking of.... the cd of lcd soundsystem is clearly MUCH higher sound quality.
makes me realize (begrudgingly) that AIFFs are still the only REAL way to go.

and NOW i'm just typing TOO MANY words in all CAPS.

.....

i watched sopranos last night.
fuck, i thought it was just great.

best line, uttered by tony (of course) - "'remember when' talk is the lowest form of conversation."

i was taken aback. in a positive manner.
i.e. i am quite pissed -- and supremely jealous -- i have never written and/or uttered those words, the remember when thing, in that exact way.

fuck!

so so good.

sure, the show was a bit sappy on the paulie tip (kill that somewhat traitorous motherfucker already....hmmm...that'd be an ultimate twist, if paulie ends up killing tony but i dunno...?) but i really dug it.
good to see tony still up to his old ways, fucking that hot miami chick (they portrayed miami quite well) and being the gangster bastard that we all know and love/like.

i also realize how much better HBO is than every single channel.

no. 2 for me in tv watching time is comedy central.

then local channels.
history channel.
pbs.

and i can't forget CBN, the christian broadcast network.
oh, yeah. oh, oh, oh.

.....

i really wish i could just order those channels only.

fucking america.

.....

i'm way excited and in a uber positive/confident mood and will be for the weekend.
new job gig.
me rocking.
the kitty's emasculating commentary.
a sustained passion for clinique.
and don ameche, who was brilliant in Cocoon 2.

.....

('crazy on you' by heart is playing now - yay for timpratt shuffle)

.....

i begrudgingly (yes, 2nd time i've used that word, much to my chagrin, even though i could actually be lying ... .... oooooh, self-awareness, me and james murphy from LCD talked about that, i gave have him shit about that in his lyrics - i know, i crack up thinking about it) admit that 'white satin' will now forever be associated with xmess '06 with mikey in sf.

and george.
and the OED.

and us being labeled 'fags' for similarly innocuous bodily adornments.
(that was a great fucking sentence ....and i'm getting sick of Heart now)
.....

concubines at the discotheque hate your rancid cankersore detritus.

.....

it's more fun to compute.

....

i think i am realizing i'm using mikey as a soundboard for what i'm going to post on paperspray later, when people have stopped using supplements. for passion.

....

i program my own computer.

....

and mikey knows i will censor parts.
for futureTimPratt's benefit, of course.
i have some respect, buttermilk butterfinger hater.

....

i should go see ADULT. now.

....

this greenery is spectacularly above par. for chancre admirers in heat in the state department.

except for carol mcgregory.

and it goes without saying that we don't need to utter anymore when speaking of a woman such as she.

unless bathing with panthers.

and that's rarely confident.

because of that specific time before the additional calculated sectional behavioral admissions excepting release of pertinent panchos, despite the vitamin c interactions.

.....

i like those five periods above me right now.

and below.

.....

or is that a persevering totalitarian?

one can only guess based on significant battle cruisers.

.....

you like me, you really like me.

i just realized that i was still writing this email for mikey and not for paperspray.


.....

i should fucking go.

i mean. fuck.

......


jesus is my saviour.
without mammon.


sexually,


christopher hitchens

Time Escapes No Living Creature

Our kitty Frankie is pretty much on his last legs.

ok, not even pretty much.

i just got the update from the vet.
no good news.
his kidneys are worsening.

of course, i knew this.
i've lived with him for 11 years.
you have a sense of things such as this.
as much as you don't want to believe it, you know when things are true.

his time is near.

i could see it in his eyes.
he's tired.
he's in pain.
he wants to be here.
but he also knows "here" is fading.
and i know.
tina and i both know.

he's tried his best to maintain.
it was obvious he was trying.
we're all living things sharing this world.
when you become close to another living thing, you can sense when they're not alright.
and he's not.

unfortunately, i've experienced this before.
my previous flatmate, her kitty, lucy, was declining when we moved in together.
and the last few weeks of lucy's life, it was quite obvious when it was her time to go.
curiously, both Frank and The Kitty didn't mess with her, especially toward the end.
oh sure, initially they hissed at her but nothing beyond that.
for the most part, my cats kept their distance and let Lucy do her thing.

i firmly believe they knew her time was short.
And so they gave her space.
normally, they wouldn't have done that. they would have been curious, got up into her space and fucked with her.

living beings know.

and hence....why i think i've come to this same realization in the past week.

.....

we've decided that no matter what the vet says (unless a miracle happens and he rebounds...but ya know...doubtful that), we're going to spend at least 1-2 more nites with him.
i mean....if he's not conscious, obviously we wouldn't do that.
but we want to say goodbye.

i know death is inevitable, that none of us can escape it, but that doesn't take away the pain.

really hurts.

i guess i always thought i'd have more time with frankie.

but it shows yet again we don't know shit.

us lowly humans.

we think we know what the fuck is up.

but we really don't.

sure, we've come a long way.
props to us.

ya-fucking-hoo.

but we still don't know shit.

kick ass and hip hip hooray for being consciously aware.

but what of it.

what of it all.

Frank

My friend Frank is going through some tough times right now.
A few months ago he was diagnosed with Polycystic Kidney Disease, which basically means he has cysts on his kidneys. He was born with them but it's not something one can necessarily be aware of unless they've had an ultrasound.
We have been giving him fluids with a needle every 2-3 days, as well as stomach medication and antiobiotics.
It seemed like he was bouncing back, but then, in the last week, he's begun to rapidly deteriorate again.
He's not eating, he's lethargic and antisocial, skinnier than ever, just not healthy.
I know he's in some degree of pain.


Frank has always been a bit more fragile than The Kitty, who's a year older and lot larger in the belly area.
In fact, it was The Kitty who woke me up at 4 a.m. when Frank was going into convulsions last year, having had a toxic reaction to what turned out to be potentially poisonous flea medication (made by Hartz - don't buy ANYTHING from Hartz for your pet).
Frank's always been kinda goofy, in a loveable, affectionate sort of way. He's very curious and not really afraid of much of anything, even dogs.
Frank is a lover, pure and simple.
Playful, rambunctious, kooky, and has one of the loudest purrboxes i've ever heard on a cat.
.....
Today, we took him back to the Vet. They're going to run further tests on him.
It seems Frank also has a heart murmur, something we didn't know before today.
One of his kidneys is definitely enlarged again.


















We are hoping for the best. But also realize the seriousness of his condition.

It just so sucks because there's only so much one can do.

I've been trying to stay close to home this weekend and just be near him, watch him and make sure he's doing ok, as ok as he can be right now.

This really hurts.
It's hard.

Basically Posting For The Extra Snacks

i haven't posted in awhile.

i can say that i have been busy.

but that's not really the reason.

i could have posted.

i could have taken the time to sit down, chew the fat with you, the screen in front of me that my brain imagines is someone doing a very similar thing late at night when you should be doing something you're supposed to be doing but instead, you've chosen to blow that shit off right now because this has the potential to hold your interest for at least another paragraph or so.

and then you'll go back to your friends, your pope, your elementals, your priceless antiques you bought online from that creepy guy with one eye that didn't go in synch with the other eye so you kinda felt sorry for him a bit even though you talked to him, you strived to talk to him in the most direct way possible, pretending to completely ignore that one off-eye that you can't help thinking of but also feel kind of shitty for noticing and so you just roll forward, because you're a civilized human being with some form of respect motherfucker.

run-on sentences can be just as exhausting for the writer, let me tell you.
but i'm no William Faulkner.
despite my height.

i don't know.

i guess i am changing.

i guess i am going through some sort of weird thing in which i attempt to figure some shit out about me while at the same time coming to grips with the fact that the more you age, the more you realize you're never really going to figure out all the shit you want to figure out and so you start getting comfortable with that and try to do something that will rock your world.

i am lucky.
i have great...nay...i have amazing fucking people in my life.

they are the reason i exist.

actually, one of the best fucking compliments I've ever received in my miniscule speck of time on this planet came not once but twice within the last three months.

i was told, by two very different people, as well as two different sexes (sorry hermaphrodites, i didn't include you in this anecdote, even though i just now did....so this sentence was worthless, yet somehow credible), the following phrase:

"I'm glad you're here."

not here, as in...the place i happened to be at that time when i was told.

here here.
alive now, in their presence, in the present, in their circle of friends, tossing out my energy willy nilly (and god knows, i never do that, except while awake and on those days when i get that not-so-fresh feeling).

"I'm glad you're here."

that fucking rocks.

rocks!

that is the kind of shit i live for.

really.

when you get right down to the real nitty gritty. and i never do that.

my whole life (i'm sorting of moving on to the next phase now of this heretofore scintillating essay, in case you needed to get a drink, grab a smoke, take a wanking break, create a collage, feel your crack, touch your nose, pull on your nipple ring, or lament about the fact that you still have a prince albert and you're really over it but can't seem to figure out how to take it out), i've been the type that has been excitable, inspiring, motivating, informing, conjuring, engaging, freaking and more (i'm sick of thinking of "-ing" words).

yet...
i don't do enough for me.
i'm a giver.
i know it.
i like it.
it is i.

but....i want to actually accomplish something.
oh sure...i've experienced and done so much in my 98 years on this planet, give or take a few parsecs.

i have been very blessed.

there will be more of this but now i must distract myself with other seemingly inane activities.

come back when you're prepared.