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Barbara Waters: so candoor, what all this fuss about blogmad?
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CONVERSATION WITH GOD
MEANING OF LIFE
FORWARD THIS ENTRY
INTELLIGENT DESIGN
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o O ( AND COMING SOON! ) O o
ABOUT ZOOPLA
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landover baptist
evil bible
COMMERCIAL CRAP (AND PRON)
(Note: pron is porn worth a look for amusement much more than passion, so if you see a (p) next to a link, be aware naked people may appear if you click it, m'ok?) (a turn on or a laugh?) real doll (p) (the ultimate self-indulgence) (or it could just be a typo) |
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last---past---next---now
�2006 Candor Communications
2005-11-01 - 2:39 p.m.
is it serious, or is it memorex
we'll start with the superfluous and see how many of you stick around for the juicy parts... scrolling down won't work, the juicy parts will automatically disappear at the touch of the scrollbar or arrow keys... you may be able to get around that certain seduction if you have your computer hooked up to respond to your eye movements, but then, the Stephen Hawking emergency system will kick in and render you and this entry quite senseless, so i wouldn't advice going through the expense of installing one...
I had just clicked upload on the previous entry when, before I knew it, I glanced up at the TV and saw a face that sucked me right in and I had to look up who it was because the lips looked so familiar (primordial attraction from my earliest youth, subconscious instincts melted my brain into a puddle of lust, get the picture... oh, yes, I want the picture... it is rarer and rarer, but the visual can so do me... lips and eyes, but mostly lips right now)...
it was Brittany Murphy in Cherry Falls... I'm gonna go lust, I mean watch now...
ok, it's the next day...
I fell asleep and woke up just as I was supposed to be getting in my car if I didn't want to be late for work... so I was thirteen minutes late because I decided a shower and shave (after bumming around a whole three day weekend) was the best course of action given that I work in a hospital, not a sewer or other place where my stench might have been covered up, or all by myself even... I didn't even cut myself, but once again caught the insanity in my eye that flows from the thought of the human cultural tradition of putting a razor to one's own neck at least once a day and scraping it along the skin... surely we love playing with and taunting death...
so I don't know what happened in the movie and now I'm gonna have to rent it (no, not cuz I want to drool over the lips, though visual aides for masturbatory fantasies are always welcome... do keep that in mind when sending me gifts) and no, I don't want to know what happened cuz I'd rather watch it and see for myself... I'm not one of those who read the last pages of a book first... I try not to even see movie previews until after I watched the film... suspense turns me on... but then, so does knowledge... and lips...
deeper love, however, is found in the eyes... perhaps the deepest, actually, at least from my point of view... like the eyes of Ezra Dax (that would be Nicole DeBoer, who does even more pleasurable things than even the lips of Ms. Murphy does and just happens to be introducing herself in that particular episode of ST:DS9 just to the left of this computer where this entry is being typed... obviously I've been physically alone long enough to have my hormones looking for lust in all the wrong places and finding it, no less, but that's besides the point and not why I dropped my pants for you tonight)...
after eating the mushrooms, I had a magical journey this past night into dawn and nothing written to show for it, which would be great if I was not at work all night with scantilly clad teenage girls and the sudden ambition to catch up on some work I'd been putting off for weeks... deeper behind the eyes, however, the journey had begun and was not going anywhere without me, so off I went with it and jellyfish tenticles, did we ever have fun...
Sippy would understand...
and then I was accousted quite handily by my imagination which (witch?... no, not my imagination witch, that's another story), fueled by an excessive amount of 50% off Halloween chocolates and various sundries, fights a never ending battle for truth, justice, and the innocent way, but that's besides the point...
let's get back to the accousting, shall we?...
well, it was quite ludicrous to resist so I gave in and that's all there is too it... sorry if you were expecting more, but then, what's this:
I was reading about Samhain (the Celtic winter season) while listening to A Celtic Christmas Celebration (A Windham Hill Sampler), which may or may not be followed by Dr. Demento Presents The Greatest Christmas Novelty CD, depending on my mood (I know, the last seventy bigillion updates of CD Stacks are long overdue... your patience is appreciated), when all of a sudden I found myself hearing a witch's voice (or maybe I was reading The Witch's Voice, come to think of it) when a crack of lightening and a bolt of thunder sent shivers through the architecture and demanded that i know more so I sent an anti-cease and please do not desist order through the ehter and the cosmos responded with the following distraction:
ever have one of those ummm, ok moments?... but anyway, it's not just cuz I love Mrs. Field's, cuz I think the email blender is quite amusing even without a cookie... and it's not that I am sophomoric (I've never been to sophomo, actually, at least not while I was conscious), in fact, I'm just ric, but I still found (when I looked past the commercials) much amusement at weebls...
and then, as if nothing could stop the powerful force that had reached into my liver and pulled out that last bottle of chianti I had back in '02, I realized that it is not too far off from the last night of October for the music to put a spell on me (oh, sing me that song like you mean it), so beware... kestra approacheth...
meanwhile, in secret, I applied for admission into the first circle of the sacred chao (pronouced cow, though at times it is called the shrine oif the flaming asscruft, though I may have that confused as two different shrines... in any case, I may not get in because I actually have recordings of most of the music on the forbidden music list and being who I am, I love almost every kind of music there is, even much there isn't... not only that, but I may have inadvertently mounted Bathtub Mary one night in Etobicoke, though I can say with unwavering certainty that I never erected her... ultimately (you know this was getting ultimate, didn't you?... I mean, couldn't you feel it?... shhhh), I laughed so hard at the rituals that I had to rush to the holy bathroom lest the stain of dishumor befall my leggings...
I am told it is the color of Mountain Dew in the morning...
but beyond any cult fiction, cross me off your list of you have to adjust your visor in order to take a joke for I shall not, nor will I shall, seekm nor will I accept the nomination of my party, unless it goes well past dawn, in which case we might come to some understanding while singing here comes the sun cuz it may actually become alright if you're still around by then...
I suppose I should apologize for all the serious pap smears of current events and cutltural reflections of late... I know that's not what I come here for and I sure hope you come when you are here because if you didn't, well, how did you get here then and now we must ask yourself if you are really here and in the left handed laughter we might find the secret scrolled on the right brain that sounds something like jello falling from a tall height, but in actuality is the disctinct possibility that you, like I, am all in my mind...
the following bit that came before this bit was brought to you by a figment of my imagination... please stand by...
or sit if you can find something to sit on (no, you can not have my face just yet) and you are of the mind to... since most of us here are quite out of our minds, however, we stand by... you may join us if you know the secret handshake... look, the hand never leaves the pocket... but first masurbate, then tell me what's on your mind...
I'll bet this entry won't get many comments...
it is not my intention to hide
it is not my intention to fool anyone
maybe my brain is just fried
. o O ( would you like ketchup with that? ) O o .
it is not my intention to censor myself
it is not my intention to cry
it is not my intention to offend anyone
it is not my intention to lie
. o O ( and I gave up taking the fifth for my healthy ) O o .
but I'm not always clear these days
I look for myself and I lose my way
and only the loneliness stays
all other emotions come and go today
it's really a very sad story about a three day tour that took at least three years and ended in disaster on the streets of Buffalo where I learned the true meaning behind Abbott and Costello's routine loosely called Niagara Falls �(slowly I turn) and the differences in textures of concrete and asphalt (but it was nobody's fault, really), not to mention the futility of telling someone to "go jump in a lake" during the month of February in the Great White North, but we won't get into it just now...
it'll wait until we take the children to bed...
meanwhile, down in the belly, the human body is an amazing thing... it proves that the natural laws of physics are not necessarily without exception... for instance, it's a proven, though unexplainable fact that the human both can break the law of matter and mass (or something like that) when it consumes one pound of chocolate and turns it into ten pounds of fat...
but who really gives a quark?...
today, I may even get more than four hours sleep... there's a chance, in fact, if I fall over and do not move until I am unconscious very soon, that I could get up to eight hours of glorious sleep, a feat rarely achieved in recent millenium, or at least not much in the recent recallable past... this sometimes happens when I tired of sleeping alone, but moreover this is a result of the brain realizing that half a life might be passing before my eyes and the other half was spent sleeping so I don't rant to repeat that in the next half...
did you know that grape juice takes out blood stains?... but the truth is that is just an illusion that any good CSI could point out with expensive tools of the trade... it is the time for goulish delights, after all, so why not play with the bodies down at the morgue... unless, of course, you are into necrophilia, in which case you're on your own... I may be mostly dead most of the time, but a roting corpse, while amusing at times, simply does not turn me on... many of you, on the other hand, just might, though I doubt it because fewer and fewer do as the years pass as I mentioned in a previously morbid entry that I'd rather not search for at the moment because I don't feel like being depressed...
truth is, there's too much fun to be had (like tossing a dummy wearing the same clothes your wearing off a five story building after standing on the ledge and looking quite full of despair and desperation and if you can wing it, later that week rising from the casket at your funeral... pull that off effectively enough and some loved one might just kill you)... it's a time to celebrate the dark side of humor, enjoy it as much as you can because the stores are already putting up their Christmas displays... everywhere we go... la...
you could go ahead and read from the book of previous entries if you've got time to party... or burn, for that matter (which may or may not have just been created, to further the controversy still further)...
I'm really not looking for something in a boustier, but how does one stand against popular opinion for so long without losing your mind... is that my mind asking or the doctor in the white coat who lets me go on believing in the love that's gonna save me (like the music) say it's true, you know what love can do to you, sing along scooby doobie doo... do the doobie white boy, yeah... where have we gone, Mrs. Robinson, we've been standing here far too long and I think the best is lost between the censored specrum of forbidden fruits and cancelled shows... Madison Avenue does not rule every mind, just almost everybody...
strike a chord, won't you?...
breathtaking beauty is in the eyes of the beholder too, after all, and the one sings me sweet lullabies as golden slumbers fill my eyes and smiles awkaen when we rise... I just love it when smiles awaken, don't you?... the theif still hasn't found what he's looking for, nor has the joken... much too much illusion, sometimes... but what else can there be, but what I am... clear as the nose on your face (and if your nose is clear, we can see your brain)... profound though has left the building...
there's the New Wave Halloween CD... from The Ramones to The Dead Kennedys, Oingo Boingo, B-52's, Dave Edmunds, SOnic Youth, all the way to Siouxsie & the Banshees (and more), there isnot a holiday invented that does not have music written about it... good luck with your new church...
I did not get to The Rocky Horror Picture Show this year... no more red balloons, alas... not ninety-nine, not no-how... I'll show him who's king of the foerest... but my mind is leap frogging ahead of us just now and the amazing thing is there's still a thread of bread crumbs leading along the path it's taking if you can find them with insight and wisdom and a seriously irreverent sense of humor and absurdity... being certifiably insane might also help, though if they catch you they won't let you enjoy it much...
once again breathe deep, the sensuous muse... the age of reason has left the building...
hey, if you happen to see one of my libido fantasies out there in your travels, well, wake me up and push her in my general direction, will ya?... and if you find the one in your travels, let her know I've been waiting that forever like I promised I would... and if all this intimacy scares you, well, pull up your covers and turn on your flashlight and tell us some ghost stories, because the campfire is no place for stories anymore what with all the wild horses making out...
more links would follow if I had more time...
in the meantime (but I don't want any meantime, begone meantime)... it's just not economical, naturally... and now, the end is near, and still we pass, the final ganja... with lions and tigers and bears (and the proverbial oh my, of course), we have no choice but to save our selves... or at least sleep in heavenly peace (eeace)...
can you imagine if I got into the cherry lifesavers?...
. o O ( NOTES ARE THE NEW HAPPY PILL ) O o .
(just let me know you were here)
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