Friday, April 22, 2016

America, the... cute, I guess.

I was walking North on Fulton and I heard that hawk sound. You know, the hawk sound? The one that goes with the purple mountains majesty, and the soaring heights and the vast expanse of glorious natural fundament, and the tired Indian on the tired horse and all that stuff? You know, the hawk sound. It goes... let's see. Kinda like a, it's a, uh... kind of a With a sort of raspy thing on the end of it. Geez, it's in all the movies and commercials.

Anyway, that sound. So I stopped, cocked my ear, and said, "Do that again!"

And it did it again, and I used my built in sonar to determine the direction from which it... what's the correct word... Uh, absorbed in reverse, deabsorbed, and I looked in that direction, and there was this little bird about three inches long sitting on this thing under a thing.

Well, I shouldn't have to tell you that I was just about ready to get severely pissed off, but I didn't yet, so I looked at that bird and said, "Do it again, I dare you."

And it opened its stupid little beak and went

So. That's it then, I guess. It ain't a hawk that makes that sound. It's this puny little... SQUAB. Thanks, SQUAB, for taking a tremendous SQUAT on forty years of hardwired memories.

Thursday, April 21, 2016

You're welcome.

Ooooooh CRAP I just figured out one of the level-ups in real life! I'll go ahead and tell everybody for free, because I'm just that kinda guy.

What it is, is when you're cleaning up your compartment, or your domicile, or abode, or asylum, castle, special dump, memorable hell hole, where you hang your stupid hipster hat, whatever you call it, when you're doing that, here's what you gotta remember to do.

All you gotta do is start at the front near the front door, and work yourself forcibly through the trash and toward the back, cleaning and wiping and sweeping and smoking and stuff all the while, and then!

Then, once you've reached the back, near the bathroom, and all of the flotsam and jetsam and flora and fauna and detritus and toxic waste is all pushed up close together into that one space, all you gotta do after that is to keep throwing little bits of whatev into it, until it becomes so dense that you get a quantum singularity some day, and all the crap that's shoved in there gets sucked away into the eleventh dimension. Then you're finally done.

First though - and this is the most important part, and you can't just skip it, because it's required in order for the whole thing to work - first you have to have been awake for a long long long long long long long long time, because otherwise you won't get realistic hallucinations, and it won't be convincing, and you won't believe none of it really happened at all.

Tuesday, April 19, 2016


See that? The picture? More often than not, that's what makes me go ass-over-teakettle when I'm walking and minding my own beeswaxiness. I'll give a brief description of what it's like to encounter that thing in the picture:


It's dark out, and I'm walking on the sidewalk (when there is a sidewalk, otherwise it's either in somebody's yard, or right in the big-ass middle of the road), just tooling along, listening to music or typing up some kind of crap like this, or filling up my brain crevices with words and pictures from teh interwub, when suddenly, and without warning...


Suddenly my steady stridely impetus is violently interrupted! I find myself without forward leg support, and my cerebellum goes into overdrive, commanding the other leg to HURRY UP, HURRY UP, HURRY UP! while at the same time, activating the OMCS (override manual control sequence) procedure for my arms, forcing both of them to enact violent pinwheeling counter-rotations! An emergency application of centripetal force as a brutal attempt to absorb the unexpected and violent downward/forward momentum of the core personage! Blatant chaos ensues, as Order and Entropy grapple for control of the application of Pure And Unaligned Motive Energy!

Whew. Luckily I caught myself this time, because my cerebellum kicks ass, just like my immune system.

So... Does that sound exciting? Dramatic? Does the description capture the 'Holy Crap, All Balls Out, One-And-A-Half Second Struggle For Control', describing the brief but furious battle between the Dark side and the Light? The fight to keep me, myself, I, from doing a violent and abrupt faceplant on the concrete sidewalk, likely resulting in yet another broken hand/phone combo?

I hope it came across that way, because that's the only reason why I took that picture and typed up all of this crap and put it online.