until your tongue and mouth go numb
from the white, christian snow
kicked up by skaters,
you are borne up on hymns
from the congregation
singing Gloria!
in the middle of the rink
all around, the rooms of ice are bounded by wooden doors
like souls are held in flesh


changeling children
ranked as cousins,
second, third and so on,
lodge themselves in the footwell
and take over the pedals
over highway overpasses and exchanges,
over clover-leaves that you can only see from heaven

Peter Gibbons: So I was sitting in my cubicle today, and I realized, ever since I started working, every single day of my life has been worse than the day before it. So that means that every single day that you see me, that's on the worst day of my life.
Dr. Swanson: What about today? Is today the worst day of your life?
Peter Gibbons: Yeah.
Dr. Swanson: Wow, that's messed up.


if i won a million dollars, i'd audit classes at universities and work part time at an aquarium and a zoo. i'd travel everywhere, by myself and with family and friends, and i'd have an apartment in brooklyn, a house in maine and a house on the beach in mexico.

come on, Mega Millions.

i'll also accept donations, of course.

I don't like to talk about my flair: meep meep
Eschatus: sup sup?
I don't like to talk about my flair: eh
I don't like to talk about my flair: hung over
I don't like to talk about my flair: bored
Eschatus: that was me yesterday
I don't like to talk about my flair: filled with haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaate
Eschatus: today, I am the winner!
I don't like to talk about my flair: er?
Eschatus: A) not hung over B) passing performance tests, so commission for me!
I don't like to talk about my flair: oh
I don't like to talk about my flair: good!
Eschatus: yesterday was just ugly. Woke up absolutely fucking ruined next to some strange british girl I picked up in the hotel bar (so, good and bad)
Eschatus: why you filled with hate?
I don't like to talk about my flair: my boss
I don't like to talk about my flair: he is the root of all evil.
I don't like to talk about my flair: he is so rooty and so evil
I don't like to talk about my flair: that i wrote a poem about it
Eschatus: /me is reminded of a Sepultura song.
I don't like to talk about my flair: really?
I don't like to talk about my flair: lyrics?
Eschatus: the name of the song is "Roots Bloody Roots", Sepultura not known for lyrical genius; That said: Evil and Rooty immediately summoned a mental image of a long haired zoftig Brazilian screaming the above all Gravel throat.
I don't like to talk about my flair: not really my bag, as you know
Eschatus: indeed
I don't like to talk about my flair: nessa is more of an indie-rock person. elvis costello.
Eschatus: /me is really more a prog rock type: ala Clutch or Tool
Eschatus: but I had my metal daze.
I don't like to talk about my flair: hee. tool!
Eschatus: Tool ftw, yo!
I don't like to talk about my flair: ftw? furry theater wiz?
Eschatus: For The Win
I don't like to talk about my flair: fat tooty wig?
I don't like to talk about my flair: ooh
I don't like to talk about my flair: so
Eschatus: so howsa weather back home?
I don't like to talk about my flair: pretty
I don't like to talk about my flair: brisk
I don't like to talk about my flair: unrainy
I don't like to talk about my flair: mercifully unrainy
Eschatus: sounds about the same here
Eschatus: though it was 70 all week until yesterday
Eschatus: supposed to snow just in time for me to be flying home
I don't like to talk about my flair: sheesh
I don't like to talk about my flair: do you just stay in a hotel the whole time you're there?
Eschatus: no
I don't like to talk about my flair: how are ferd and jane and tammy and the fat one?
I don't like to talk about my flair: brian?
I don't like to talk about my flair: Brian!
Eschatus: drove up to Boulder last night to see my friend steff from brain camp
I don't like to talk about my flair: i thought you were in the UK
I don't like to talk about my flair: oh, wait
I don't like to talk about my flair: you just picked up a british chick
I don't like to talk about my flair: in colorado. ok.
Eschatus: ferd's crazy, mom's sober, tammy's well and her son is adorable, brian's a loser, robb's a loser, tracy has a 3.98 in school and has received a scholarship to rutgers
I don't like to talk about my flair: SON?!
Eschatus: (she's doing the 2 at community & 2 at university thing)
I don't like to talk about my flair: how crazy?
Eschatus: you know, as crazy as he ever was
I don't like to talk about my flair: nice.
I don't like to talk about my flair: um
I don't like to talk about my flair: well
I don't like to talk about my flair: wow
I don't like to talk about my flair: SON?!
I don't like to talk about my flair: tammy has a child?!
I don't like to talk about my flair: she's younger than me!
Eschatus: You do remember that Tammy is my older sister, right?
Eschatus: by 7 years
I don't like to talk about my flair: what is the little one called?
Eschatus: Tracy
I don't like to talk about my flair: d'oh!
I don't like to talk about my flair: no child?
Eschatus: no child
Eschatus: 3.98
I don't like to talk about my flair: hee
Eschatus: scholarship
I don't like to talk about my flair: i was impressed
I don't like to talk about my flair: by the crotchfruit/high GPA combo
Eschatus: no crotchdroppings from my clan.
I don't like to talk about my flair: but equally impressed by the GPA on it's own merits
I don't like to talk about my flair: Go Tracy!
Eschatus: yeah, she's skills.
Eschatus: still creepy and mostly silent
Eschatus: but I loves her.
I don't like to talk about my flair: awesome. she was the cutest child.
I don't like to talk about my flair: remember when we cleaned her room and i got strep throat and passed out?
Eschatus: she's living near trenton now with a boyfriend who i can't stand
Eschatus: and yes, I do.
I don't like to talk about my flair: i will never, ever, ever in my life
I don't like to talk about my flair: EVER
I don't like to talk about my flair: forget that.
I don't like to talk about my flair: hee
Eschatus: hehe
I don't like to talk about my flair: tampons? check
Eschatus: /me keeps his place immaculate.
I don't like to talk about my flair: bag of goo?
I don't like to talk about my flair: check!
I don't like to talk about my flair: slimfast dinners? yep
I don't like to talk about my flair: strings of (lit) xmas lights?
I don't like to talk about my flair: those too!
Eschatus: yes yes, clearly a den of insanity
Eschatus: /me lived there, he couldn't have missed it.
I don't like to talk about my flair: it was archeology at its very finest
I don't like to talk about my flair: i remember it fondly
I don't like to talk about my flair: jane sober!
Eschatus: really? I look back on it in a mixture of horror and revulsion.
I don't like to talk about my flair: yes, but it was your childhood, see
Eschatus: indeed
Eschatus: and yeah, she's clean for about 2 years now.
Eschatus: though, unless i was totally oblivious, she didn't really develop a drinking problem until she had the gastric bypass.
I don't like to talk about my flair: yeah you had mentioned
I don't like to talk about my flair: so now she is both thin and sober?
Eschatus: thin is relative.
Eschatus: but yes
Eschatus: she's probably still about 180.
Eschatus: but she was much heavier
I don't like to talk about my flair: yes
I don't like to talk about my flair: hm
Eschatus: how about Felix and Mirta?
I don't like to talk about my flair: my mom lost about fifty pounds
I don't like to talk about my flair wants to send file C:\Documents and Settings\vbsoto\My Documents\My Pictures\Summer '05\IMG_2997.jpg.
Eschatus received C:\Documents and Settings\vbsoto\My Documents\My Pictures\Summer '05\IMG_2997.jpg.
I don't like to talk about my flair: u like picture
Eschatus: wow, mamma's all skinny
I don't like to talk about my flair: nothing like drunk mom and orange boyfriend
Eschatus: hehe
I don't like to talk about my flair: yeah
I don't like to talk about my flair: she's like 103 pounds now and gives me shit about my weight all the time
I don't like to talk about my flair: she's got a good grip on that glass of Absolut Vanilla
Eschatus: last I saw you, you were still quite smoking, so she can go scratch
I don't like to talk about my flair: hee
I don't like to talk about my flair: that's what i think
I don't like to talk about my flair: but you know my mom
I don't like to talk about my flair: she's whatcha might call picky
Eschatus: and probably pissed that you're not married yet.
Eschatus: every time I talk to the black widow she hounds me about when she's getting some grandkids out of me.
Eschatus: I don't have it in me to defy her to her face with protestations of a gene pool so badly damaged that procreation would be tantamount to war crime.
I don't like to talk about my flair: i get the line
I don't like to talk about my flair: "That's okay. Your father and I have gotten used to the fact that you're never going to get married. (pause) OR have children."
I don't like to talk about my flair: the OR is significant because it means they wouldn't put it past me to breed out of wedlock
Eschatus: /me and then she presses her wrist to her forehead and swoons.
I don't like to talk about my flair: u see
I don't like to talk about my flair: perfectly my dear
Eschatus: I get the:
Eschatus: "I don't have much longer...When do I get to see some grandchildren?"
Eschatus: from Ann "The Black Widow" Drohan
I don't like to talk about my flair: oh jesus
Eschatus: and for a 4'11" frail little thing, she manages to convey a great deal of malice.
I don't like to talk about my flair: and you're all
I don't like to talk about my flair: "TRYING NOT TO BE A LOSER, HERE, MOTHER!"
Eschatus: oh my Mom's fine with it
I don't like to talk about my flair: "JOB-HAVING"
Eschatus: her mother's evil, it's why I respect her so.
I don't like to talk about my flair: "GENDER-APPROPRIATE CLOTHING WEARING'
I don't like to talk about my flair: "APPROVED BMI HAVING"!!!
Eschatus: I could do with a 10lb loss, but who couldnt.
I don't like to talk about my flair: my bmi is "hot buttered fudge"

Pastellita says:
Erik and i are going to move to the Cayman Islands and start an Oysters Rockefeller and turtles farm.
Tory says:
mmmm, turtles
Pastellita says:
hee
Pastellita says:
no, silly
Pastellita says:
the turtles are PETS. PETS!!
Tory says:
if god wanted us to keep turtles as pets, he wouldn't have made them out of meat
Pastellita says:
ha
Pastellita says:
what would he have made them out of?
Pastellita says:
peanut butter?
Pastellita says:
celery?
Tory says:
scissors.

Signs of the Apocalypse: Part III

"Murder Rate Hits 40-Year Low
- - - - - - - - - - - -
By MICHAEL J. SNIFFEN Associated Press Writer

October 17,2005 WASHINGTON -- The nation's murder rate declined last year for the first time in four years, dropping to the lowest level in 40 years. Experts said local rather than national trends were mostly responsible.
The rates for all seven major crimes were down and the overall violent crime rate reached a 30-year low, according to the FBI's annual compilation of crimes reported to the police.
There were 391 fewer murders nationwide in 2004 than the year before. The total of 16,137 worked out to 5.5 murders for every 100,000 people.
That's a decline of 3.3 percent from 2003 and the lowest murder rate since 1965, when it was 5.1."

Are you, like me, wondering how the suicide rate is looking?
well, i'll tell ya.
According to the CDC, suicide took the lives of 30,622 people in 2001 (CDC 2004).
That's up from 29,199 Americans in 1999.

It seems to me that you're in some trouble when folks would rather kill themselves than other people.

Signs of the Apocalypse: Part Deux

Rick Moranis releases Country Music album.
Here, finally, is the apotheosis of Western Civilization. We have met the enemy, and he shrunk the kids.



From the press kit: "it sure was a hoot."

okay so before we get started, i'd just like to say

this white pill is
seawater in my nose
and this blue one with the orange letters
is a long head-cold
these tiny ones in four rows
are rows and rows of little toes
and the two yellow saucers
which take the headache away with them
leave ice cubes and bananas and partly-cloudy in its place
it's return of the living dead part
approximately ten thousand one hundred and thirty-four
so give me a break
this green stuff is for kids
and the red drops and orange drops for sleep and sneezing
were gifts from my evil stepmother
but you can't keep a good girl up
past twelve
no seriously, that too,
also, you can't keep a good girl
away from her uppers- and-downers-
that's just rude.

Signs of the Apocalypse: Part 1

1. My Fair Brady
Here is a television show so blandly awful that it's clear entropy has already given way to the clammy, decrepit sameness of chaos. Thanks a lot, show.

I'm sure this will be a recurring feature.

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