Largebarge

Cats

Sat, 14 Aug 2010 01:25:37 +0000

Uncle Bill Burroughs argued that cats weren’t welcomed as pets by the Egyptians due to their mousing in the granaries, but rather because of a void for psychic companions and familiars that they filled. This, he said, holds true into the present. Beyond this, I think, there is the immediacy of the cat. They are tactile, they are always under hand, or underfoot; their hair is on you; they are on your lap while sitting or at your feet while eating or on the small of your back while sleeping. There’s the severing of the psychic connection, for sure, when losing a cat, but the physical void they leave is heavy.

It’s been three days since I was handed the box of ashes. Looking inside seemed inevitable, but I don’t think I will. Dude was a soft, meaty, and warm paperweight for the soul. I don’t want to see him as a pile of grit.

They Make Them Robotic

Tue, 06 Oct 2009 03:35:53 +0000

“The first thing I did in the hotel room was unplug the toilet.”

New Year

Sat, 19 Sep 2009 18:34:35 +0000

L’shana tova to all the tribe members out there. Get yourself inscribed before you wreck yourself.

Casualties of Packing

Sat, 19 Sep 2009 02:05:39 +0000

- Shin, 1, left, barked
- Toe, 1, right little ‘un, broken(?)
- Glass, 1, stemmed, placed on table with force, shattered
- Shirt, 1, cotton, absentmindedly used to open grenadine
- Tequila, reposado, not dead yet

Nerdgasm

Fri, 18 Sep 2009 03:18:00 +0000

Hunting down a bookshop that’s breaking street date by five days? One of the highlights of the week.

Overheard conversation:
- Then a K9 cop came down the aisle while the train was between stations.
- Guess they were looking for bombs. Or drugs.
- Probably not drugs.
- Liberals. Must’ve been a liberal sniffer.

A while back I stumbled on a succinct word to describe something which cannot be described by conventional language and scribbled it down on a scrap of paper. Now I can’t find the scrap and am at a loss to describe how annoyed I am.

Don’t Mean Nothing Later

Wed, 16 Sep 2009 23:48:00 +0000

Melatonin: peyote for the over-the-counter crowd.

Another dream: backyard of the row house, a yellow boombox (single cassette deck and broken) with orange extension cord snaking away. It smells like the beach.

Srsly

Tue, 15 Sep 2009 23:54:03 +0000

Photo taken over two years ago, rediscovered while clearing out files when I should’ve been packing. No joke: squirrel in a sombrero.

Also, an otherworldly thingamadoodad in the sky:

Furthermore, a dream: eating flowers, on fire.

The Stompening

Tue, 15 Sep 2009 01:54:14 +0000

Caustic spiders that lay eggs inside you? I’d prefer living underneath a nest of those rather than this kid up there now. Complete sentences are difficult. Seeking PTMUCD clinic.

The Solemnity Sunk in After a Moment

Sat, 12 Sep 2009 21:17:20 +0000

Am I a horribly evil human being for expressing anger that the Price is Right was preempted on my day off by September 11 memorial coverage?

Knock Knock Pants

Thu, 10 Sep 2009 02:01:01 +0000

Finally getting to a sleepy place last night and there’s a knock at the door. 11:32. Do I ignore it? There’s another knock. Maybe the building is on fire. They’d probably knock harder… unless they don’t like me much. I should go see if the building is on fire. I’ve got lights flipped on and my eye on the peephole though I have left my spectacles bedside and I am, as I often am, pantless. I see a person-shaped object outside and he appears pantless. A pantless stranger knocking on your door late at night would seem to indicate fire, though before finding out I start to pant up. Panting up is unexpectedly difficult without the spectacles despite years of training; there is nobody standing outside by the time I’ve flung open the door in a state of full pantsiness. A quick survey shows neither anybody out in the parking lot or activity in the area. I am inside and depantsed with a quickness, heading back to bed, when I hear the voice:

mumblemumbleFUCKmumblegrumbleFUCKYEAHgrumbleASSHOOOOooooosuresure…

Half asleep, fluxy with the panthood, the guy upstairs speaking Mandarin sounded like a vile human though I am sure he was likely just commenting that the man downstairs refused to open the door despite the rustling sound of pants from within. I assume he was the knocker as I have sometimes seen him wandering the parking lot pantless looking somewhat person shaped. We can eliminate fire as my belongings are still here. Perhaps he was apologizing for spawning a demon child. That would be nice.