I feel like this old guy today. I forget his name. He's the dog of a friend. I think it's a "him." At his age it hardly matters. He could have genitals made of uncooked linguine and nobody would notice, not even the vet. We took him to the dog park and he bumped around from one spot to another. He's totally blind and he finds his way around by smell, I guess. It could be just luck and he's not really sure where he's going, or where he's been. He just walks along slowly until his head bumps into something and then he'll go a different direction and do the same. His tongue is too long to fit in his mouth so the end has become dried and hardened. It is fun to touch as it leaves no saliva on your hand and it is unlike any other tongue I've ever touched, and I've touched many, and that's being modest. It's sort of a hobby of mine, so don't be alarmed if I ever ask to touch yours, etc.
But he's a good old wonder of longevity and my buddy loves him dearly. He's about 233.3 years old in human years and what comes next is the unspoken truth.
That was like me on Facebook yesterday... blind and bumping into things, turning around, heading a different way.... I looked through my history and found rambling school-boy poems to friends, non-sensical sentence fragments, proud claims cataloging my ingestion of beer, insisting on it, demanding, repeating, etc. Sort of a slurring lexicon descent into drunkenness. I didn't even think that it was possible to get drunk on Coors beer... It doesn't seem like it's even possible. They should put a warning on the cans: " If you drink 18 of these in a couple of hours you might experience a sensation that resembles drunkenness. Women shouldn't drive. -Adolph" That would, at least, help clear things up a bit.
A friend said that no matter what I did yesterday I'm still not as bad off as old IMF Von Trier. I mean who, at the end of the day, hasn't performed a few good old-fashioned nazi-rapes on some underprivileged maids just as they're leaving the country, and then claimed the victory for old Saint Adolph, right?
"How do I get out of this sentence? OK, I'm a Nazi." - L.Von.T.
The world sure is a funny place. I was bored witless with "Dancer in the Dark" and walked out. It was one of the poorest films I've ever seen. I went back and watched it again, just to be sure, and as it turned out, I was quite right. It is pathetic, and that is the only quality that keeps it from being completely boring.
I just got an email from a friend from Amsterdam. He has doubled his silliness in life by offering me a writing spot on his website. I used to write for him years ago when we were all younger and perhaps more vulnerable. Now, of course, we are older and more interested in conserving our values and the values of our respective international communities, right?
We'll see... I am through with suburban morality, I hope, for good.
I am issuing formal individual apologies for yesterday. If interested, please fill out this form and my offices will get back to you with either a call-time or an agreeable meeting place.
How do I get out of this sentence....? Ok, I'm a Fonzie....
(Balthus)
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