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2005-12-09 - 5:49 p.m. mystery guest genius Hello... I would like to introduce once again for the very first time, Mystery Guest Genius... yes, tonight we institute the latest new feature in this madhouse behind the candoor, the guest lecturer... it is a most exciting time here forced upon us by circumstances far beyond control of mortal men, yes super manic moments have magically appeared and can not be adequately linked, so therefore we resort to this subtle subtrifuge under the guise of celebratory new feature... but first I will note here that I wrote an entry at 11:22pm on the date prior to this date that was serious and meaningful and dedicated to John Lennon, but I seem to have misplaced that entry at the moment so you get this one for now... and now, we return to the introduction... but first, with a complete reversal of the reverence intended in the previous but first, I'll just make this observation out of respect or apology for the previous entry (which of course is dated in real time as opposed to this entry which is dated in back time, just in case you wondered)... apparently I have more Betty Boop fans in my vast audience than I ever expected if all but two of you were offended enough to be left speechless by the revelations exposed (or was it the legs?... hey, I didn't put any Betty Boop porn up, so allow me the facade of a little class, anyway)... maybe it was the shock and awe of being named #1 by Google for sites you can masturbate to, but come on, wasn't anybody even remotely amused by my flu-bug induced interpretation of boopoopeedoop?... oh, my poor lonely sense of humor... still laughing after all these years... ok, so I have no respect for anything sometimes... it's not as if I'm going to have to answer to some amnipotent judge, now am I?... what?... repent?... but I haven't offended everybody yet... aherm, we'll just clear our throats and get on with this entry which was not supposed to be about me at all but rather about a guest writer who I will get back to introducing now because I really want you to revere this writer as if his name was Paul crying out the British are coming, the British are coming and come to think of it, if somebody was riding around the countryside telling my business like that I might go a little red in the coat and take issue as well... I mean, what the British or anyone do behind closed doors is not any business of the general public... but perhaps Paul was a frustrated Casanova who was having impotence problems and therefore was, in some warped psychological fit of self-abuse, raging against himself by flaunting the British orgasmic prowess... in fact, Mystery Guest Writer deserves much more respect than any Paul, Dick, or Harriet, come to think of it... so we're going to get into the meat of this entry now, right?... yes, it is time to stop driving away the hoards of respectable readers and nit some gritty... as Monty Python would say, start again... but before we do, I would just like to suggest that just maybe I have been trying your patience recently by stirring up some abrasive chemicals in these literary games we play called diaryland diaries and if anyone doesn't get the joke, then please step right up and challenge the hell out of my veracity when I say I mean no harm... for though you may be able to catch more bees with honey than with vinegar, humans are not bees (no matter how well or often they sting) and you most likely will get more conversation from humans with opinions and attitudes that feel like steel wool on a chalk board sounds than with ever so sweet love poetry or benign reports of daily life... and since I really am all about the conversation, sometimes, I may be trying the most likely latter theory out, literally in literature... now before you completely forget why we are gathered here tonight, I return you to your favorite never before seen feature here in this manic world behind the candoor, the never before recurrent new star studded spectacular special immaculate conception heretofore to be known as the Mystery Guest Genius... Mystery Guest Genius, sometimes to be referred to as MGG, will bestow our lucky eyes with the gifts of prophesy and wisdom right here behind the candor from time to time, even if it's occasionally against MGG's will because anonymity works two ways... a secret is a double edged sword... genius and adorable is a lethal combination... you will be a guest star from the constellation victrola behind the candoor... this has been decided... anonymity will be regailed with awe and laughter, even mispelled at times just to fool the masses into submission... i also want to [insert tittilating fantasy] in song into my web world, but how?... the scientists are working on the dilemma, creating the problem so they can use the solution, for what good is a solution when there is no matching problem... conflict in a just cause is still conflict... i only want to make love to you, not only you, but only love... red herrings keep everyone honest, except the liars, but it paints them red because they can not resist fish... passenger 3 knew... you left out canadian... obviously MGG has an intoxicating effect on me... for reasons that shall never be known, unless one of us tell, MGG will forever be a secret guest writer wherever we are, here for now, perhaps there tomorrow, or gone, one day... what is left is the purity of adoration, the simplicity of enigmatic sensuality, the innocence of ignorance with the best of intentions and love, always love, for hate will get you every time... everyone knows that... duh but what good is knowledge without action to follow the passion that knowledge provides?... what good is knowledge that provides no passion or knowledge that does nothing but hide?... what good is passion or knowledge or action without something with which it collides?... what good is collision or passion or friction or knowledge that remains inside?... what good am I?... what good are you?... what good is knowing what good is true?... what good is caring if there's no sharing?... what good is one without two?... and in the end, my love, my friend, quite asking out of the blue... what good is knowing the knowledge that you always knew if nothing about it is all you do?... yes, so this introduction the Mystery Guest Genius (and any other Mystery Guest Speakers that might happen along in my maniac scouring of the world wide web for passionate candidates, no matter how innocuous their appeal for recognition here, no matter how reluctant they might seem, no matter how adamant they are in vehemently denying their own existence and any desire to be highly touted anywhere, especially around these parts) continues to evolve into a relatively unscientific study of the madness cleverly disguised as me, at least me in words here for you to see, each eye seeing differently while looking at the same thing... you saw that coming, didn't you?... clear your mind now, for the heavens have opened and gifted us (and blessed you) with the presence of greatness, the foxy creativity of the entity unknown to all but me and the Mystery Guest Genius known as Mystery Guest Genius... it is (most finally) to MGG's own words I lead you now, as follows: I think everyone needs to talk about abortion. It seems everyone is aching to talk about it. No, I didn't say everyone needs to have an abortion, just that everyone should talk about it constantly. For 11 days and 11 nights we should discuss abortion. moments . to . digest
what if I told you that most of this afternoon, in the midst of writing this entry, I was actually dedicating my time to six new entries dedicated to the memory of the first true love of this lifetime as I've known it who just happens to be celebrating a birthday today (in real time) somewhere in the world... would you stand up and walk out on me then?... well, I ask in case you didn't already, obviously... but really I want to know if those who did click away from this entry (or any entry, so long endured) somewhere along the way for whatever reason (why is important too, I want to know) might not have done so if they realized I have a much more corny sentimental heart that is buried deep beneath the layers of cynical good cheer and irreverent suck-on-this humors that have overcome us of late... could I be separating the wheat from the chafe?... would baby powder help with that?... really, I don't mean to question anyone's personal hygiene, but my mind will wander here and there and to any unsuspecting crotch every now and then, so I'll thank you all to bathe regularly if you don't want me to point fingers at your groin with one hand while holding my nose with the other hand, all the while making at quite disgusted face and over-emphasizing the sound euwwwwwww... yes, of course in one breath I am begging for your attention, your comments, your undying love and endless devotion and uninhibited adoration and holy worship at my every corpsicle and odd word and in the next breath I am condemning you to eternal humiliation and telling you to fuck-off in every innocuous and perverse and subtle and obvious way imaginable (or really?... no, I can imagine many more ways than these) and maybe ultimately testing your sense of humor... and that may be because I am insatiably starving for attention and love and some really good stroking while simultaneously being a serious intellectual and fashion snob who, as desperate as I may get, will only accept the real thing in real time from the ideal embodiment of the dream held most dear to my heart and I am ultimately testing your sense of humor... but testing is such a dirty word... of course this could all be just my cleverly subtle-as-a-brick-in-the-eye way of demonstrating most effectively precisely why I remain one of the unheralded and unlisted unfukd, ya know... in the end, at least for this entry, I am just trying to pass the time and have some fun and maybe make a few connections from my mind to yours, if that's even possible... and the proof is in the plageristic way I have stolen your words (or will, eventually) and dubbed you the Mystery Guest Genius or some such honorific title in order to bestow the praise upon you that i feel you truly deserve without identifying you precisely for one reason or many... if you didn't understand, well... I shall leave you with the immortal word of the late great Redd Foxx and Don Rickles, two brothers of different mothers (or so they claimed)... dummy...
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