ABC 123 XYZ LetItBe TryOneFree TKD MakeHerSee
BBC SetMeFree TNT AToZ AllForMe XTC STP You&Me
SheMakes3 ICan'tSee History WasItMe? Melody Harmony
WaltzInThree LookAtMe LikeTheSea Gracefully
Facelessly Hopeless-Eternally GodToThee
Monday, March 26, 2007
Though I am certain I will never write anythingworthy of sharing cyberspace with Van Gogh, yet I am. Last night I had 6 hours sleep from 8pm-2am. Good sleep apparently I awoke refreshed and ready for the week. Hard to get busy at 2:30am so I made really good coffee, washed my face, emailed 50 potential Reunion Guest Classmates and then I lay me down to sleep for two nore hours only to awaken and blog.
Must be something Astral, predicted by wise Mages, a planetary alignment, I feel such power now!
Oh well, back to sleep.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Monkey see, Monkey do.
Jumping up and down in Poo!
Make me see, Monkey mine,
All the Poo I've smashed in time!
Screech and howl and pound your chest!
Monkey never knows what's Best!
Still he hops upon my head,
Makes me want things - wants me dead!
Monkey scratch your purple ass,
Hump a tree branch, No, I'll pass.
Mouth of fangs my Monkey hides,
Claws and teeth he tears my hide!
Monkey Now, caked in Poo!
Monkey Me, Monkey Do.
Monday, March 19, 2007
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Somehow My little Brother has always managed to avoid the full flow of MOTHER's Judgement/Love equation without getting stuck in the emotional whirlpools that the rest of us struggle to swim in. His marriage and his two boys have dimmed the spotlight on he and his wife, as the "perfect"- next of kin grandchildren (her's by the Theory of MANIFEST GRAND-MOTHERHOOD) monopolize her Love and only her Judgment remains for the rest of us.
I chose the safety of geographic distance, mental illness and self mediction to stunt the emotional probes from my Mother "your MOTHER in Texas." Everytime, always. Then I lost control of my substances and ended strpped, naked - warts, scabs and all in MOTHER's WORRY again. I tried to teach, she tried to learn. ADDICTION is just weakness a human failing ! - she tells me.
I know I have her in my life daily - I LOVE HER SO MUCH! But since she can't fix my addiction/abuse she's angry at me about it. Who wouldn't be? So my Emotional and Personal life & relationships are considered common areas for everyone. Sadly, they are not.
Soon my Little Sister will introduce a brand new Neice into MOTHER's Gravity well. The Baby will save me Months of MOTHER's Judgement and Love. Down will fall Baby...The Gravity, the Gravity...
Timothy loves the new baby already.
"Oh maybe I would sleep better with this ticking clock off my lap? I'm just too sleepy to tell."
"I shold close my eyes, but who would watch the clock for me!"
"Too late for Letterman, too early for Coffee - I AM in Hell!"
"How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck coould chuck wood..."
Friday, March 16, 2007
Oh God, that's better! I couldn't post pictures for 2 days and I was afraid only my awkward prose and childish poetry would assault the pages of the World Wide Web! I mean 90% of my content are the pithy and thoughtful images that lend my unique blend of self-deprecating, world wise, cynical hopefulness to my silly observations and passionate opinions (not to mention THE STINKY DIARIES!)
But I'm back and I'm still illustrated!
Monday, March 12, 2007
I am such a pretty, pretty, pretty Kitty! Aren't I? No wonder I get away with murder! Fat Daddy just can't stay angry when I roll on the floor playing with my tail or curl up like a little baby squirrel when I sleep. Je sui adorable!
Oh well, I thought I'd show you what I use to train Fat Daddy in case any of you have Fat Daddys to train. Actually this works with any size Daddy. It's just more fun to watch the Fat ones struggle. Ha Ha! oops! I'm loving me so much I can't finish my thought. I'll post a picture while I calm down!
This is a NERF foam dart. There are hundreds of them hidden around the apartment I share with Fat Daddy. Orange ones and black, yellow, red or gray ones - everywhere but only I can find them! When I drop one at Fat Daddy's feet, he throws it for me and I retrieve it. Not always right away, mind you, I try not to be predictable. That's what really drives him crazy! Sometimes, I bring back a different color dart every time I return to him. He tries not to let it bother him, but I know he wonders just how smart his pretty, pretty, pretty Kitty really is!
SMART ENOUGH TO RUN THIS APARTMENT WITHOUT PAYING RENT! How's that Daddy?
Then other times I'll play "Fetch" for twenty or thirty minutes without stopping - really get into an obsessive groove - then I dissappear just long enough to make him wonder where I've been or sigh with relief that the game is over. Then I come running out of nowhere without a dart and I sit a his feet and howl for him to throw another dart until he gets up to look for it! I love to hide it in the bathroom. There's the tub, behind the toilet or in my bathroom water bowl! No matter how wet or germ filled, Fat Daddy retrieves the dart just like I've trained him.
Oh I love me SO much! I have to sign off so I can chew on my pretty tail!
Stinkerella Fifi Louise Hogan
Thursday, March 08, 2007
As she dozed on the crowded city bus, draped on the bench atop her plastic bags, mismatched luggage - everything she owned carried with her - I snapped her picture with my cell phone. Trying not to stare her awake, I looked away. Her imprint in my mind was indellable - a Pieta. The Bag-lady crucified, Christ of my commute that day. The blue vinyl bus seat seemed to be holding her like the Blessed Mother. Something about her made me think of peace.
She must have been a regular on the route, for when the driver braked, he indicated it was her stop and asked that her fellow passengers wake her. No one moved, though everyone heard, and since I knew their paralysis was unique to Minnesota and incurable, I stood up. Shaking her shoulder and saying, "Excuse me, Ma'am?" in a clear gentle voice, I tried to rouse her. Her face was paper thin and paper white. Complicated lines of weather and time flashed a sweet smile as her dream ended and her moist eyes blinked open. I explained we had arrived at her stop and helped her gather her life's luggage and disembark.
Though years ago she haunts me still. Did I do a good thing by helping her get where she was going? Or was my action an assault? A rude interruption of the temporary peace her passing dream-time had provided? Just a moment's reverie in a life I doubt she'd ever dreamed would be hers. Sleep sweetly, sister. May you be cradled in dreams without trouble, want or pain.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
It is unwarranted, since I neither invented, participated in the invention of, nor even owned a truly vintage Mac BUT when I see the MAC VS. PC Commercials on television I experience a proud rush of smug exclusivity. I know that worldwide, my G4 and I are hoplessly outnumbered by PCs and that the evolution of the World's First peronal computer is now financed by iPod money and yet I manage to feel superior.
It's a pride that doesn't extend to other products. I don't silently cheer my brand of ketchup, bathroom cleaner or toothpaste when their television commercials air but when MAC and PC begin their tongue in cheek exchange I smile.
Monday, March 05, 2007
Since this is about name calling and the Politics of Intolerance, I won't use the "b" word that I think of when I see Miss Coulter. She used the word "faggot" in front of the CPAC (Conservative Political Action Comittee) to take a swipe at John Edwards campaign. The remark obviously met with the approval of the Conservatives there based on the laughter and applause that ensued. Follow the link at the bottom of this post to see the video yourself.
Race baiting has become too disgusting for even the most radical of the "Crazy Right" to partake in. Gay baiting is still an approved tactic because, at 2% of the populace, it's allowed to use us as the butt of jokes, destroyers of sacred marital rites and objects of derision. Who knows, 30 years ago it might have been the "n" word that she so casually abused? Regardless, Anne Coulter has demonstrated repeatedly that she is nothing more than a "shock jock" for the ridiculous right, bent on stirring up the hilbilly redneck vote by creating scary images of an America dominated by Godless Liberal Faggot Lovers who will someday be allowed to marry and reproduce following the vaunted "Gay Agenda."
I don't know about everyone else, but I don't have an Agenda aside from wanting the same rights and legal protections afforded to all other American citizens - none too radical, methinks.
As for Miss Coulter, I choose to refrain from trading insults. Even though she is a miserable "c." **
**See COMMENTS for my mea culpa.