Blog Archives
Paean To Valium
O doctor! Lady doctor
hiding the secret benzo
but hearing my soul sick answers weary call quickly
and candies my brain
like recipe
like blanket
like trust and love which will be given back to all my loves
In The Middle Of Our Street
There is nothing funnier than my family when they are running late for something. It’s a known trait on my fathers’ side, because he has OCD. He’d take legendary showers, half-hour to forty five minute events while everyone else wondered what he was doing in there. His showers were full of guttural nonsense, vulgar ways of saying vulgar words like “sonovamother” ” or “hooyoobitch” (these translations may not be completely accurate because I am accessing a directory that is about 25 years old) but let’s just say noise was made that I never heard in my life when my Dad got under the water. He never made it to work on time, consistently late almost an hour but he had seniority so it was no big deal. The guy worked nights, babysitting gigantic magnetic tape machines that kept a massive shipping company float in New Jersey.
These things weren’t funny then-it caused many other anguish producing memories that I cannot talk about here yet, but watching my own family’s disastrous and confusing escape from the house(save for me) helps loosen some heartstrings,as Miles Kurosky says. The only one not ready is me. That is because I don’t get to go out, I have to buckle down the house for the family’s reentry. Which, I must remind myself, is a job that has no ignominy attached to it.
Stop Using This Word
“Manicky”.
Sometimes, when your bipolar is upset, you must have done something to upset your bipolar. You may have just used that word. Now they are telling you what an idiot you are for making up words.
Here’s a new word that is less offensive to bipolars. Try this out.
“Hypomanic”.
The educated bipolar is immediately calmed to find that someone has used proper medical terminology to explain its behavior. Don’t come to him and tell him/her he is “manicky”. He/she will likely tell you to get fucked if you can’t deal with the bipolar.
You of course are free to say whatever you want and certainly think whatever you want but it is my opinion that you are talking the fuck down to me if you dismiss me with a word like “manicky”.
One more thing that upsets bipolars is when you don’t acknowledge when they are depressed. There ARE two poles to this disorder and my question to those amateur psychiatrists running around is why are you not addressing the bipolar when he/she is depressed? You’re always happy as hell to declare me “manicky”, but my depression is irrelevant. I see. They would call it Manic Disorder. I do not have “Manic Disorder”, do I?
Try and remember this. It’s not a difficult one. Your respective bipolars will appreciate you for this.
Between The Buttons
And between one dog who constantly licks his balls, and another who is contemplating an owner change if he doesn’t go back to Colorado where at least he could roll in the snow.
My wife has entered a professional business; when I ask her when she is coming home, the answer is a curt “when I’m done” and I have to deal with that. Ativan helps choke off rage very well, so I took one. I’m sure I have put her through enough without Ativan that I should just hush up.
I wander the house aimlessly, frightened by simple reflections and recollections. It is a painful process for me, this coming home and staying home. I have never been left like this before. It’s odd.
The world is in terrible pain, inside and out. You’re all going nowhere fast. Check the headlines, Speed Racer, your reactor could be next as the world heaves terrible sighs about how much it wishes you to get the fuck off of it.
There had better be more love in this world before the next catastrophe. Pay attention to the goings-down before you get all bent up in your own trip, can you dig it, Billy?
Where The Trees Have Leaves Of Prisms
I am still trying to get over the crisis in Japan.
It haunts me, it haunts me that anyone who lives near a reactor may suffer the same fate. I hope the sites here in Georgia are taking extra precautions because we too, like Japan, live in a relatively uninhabitable place that is dotted with mountains and big ass animals, and we are using nuclear power. Every time I type a word I tax a fuel rod of its radiation which is then converted into energy that I keep using. It makes me want to stay outside, and there ain’t much outside besides fucking yard work, which I am currently delaying.
Go light on your house today, and be well. Listen to the Byrds, or some others tweeting outside.
Rethinking Natural Gas
After the terrible turnout of the Japanese meltdowns and the earthquakes that shattered so many lives, it has occurred to me that natural gas too is quite dangerous to use as a fossil fuel. “Fracking”, it seems, has catalyzed the earth to do funny stuff to us humans like, oh , I don’t know, have it suffer a giant size meltdown in Japan that hit 9.0 on the Richter.
Folks, if we don’t go wind and solar yesterday, there won’t be a future to look forward to because we will say YES to greed every time and the Earth says”Oh, no…”
It’s just something to think about. I know that many people are invested heavily in these resources. It doesn’t surprise me that you might. I’d load that basket of investment with green tech because this fracking and whacking at the earth is only going to piss it off, and send you hurtling into space or the water if you are lucky. That’s the way the world works-it’s round, save for its features. What comes around…
Do I have to finish that anecdote?
Family Dinner Rules
There are no rules. It’s like being in the middle of a revolution, people shouting at each other and passing things through an irritable crowd. Your kids hate all of the food because you took your food stamps to “Earth Fare” instead of Wal-Mart. Tough, shit, kids, mommy is serving the best shit on the planet and I will not let you go about it like a God-Damned-Idiot. Nosuh, nosuh, we eat like kings do and we are grateful to Georgia’s generous EBT program. We’re it not for you, we po’ folk couldn’t go get the best. I only hope that other families can get the best from their food stamp system and remember that bad food is killing you and some good food is affordable.
Anyway, I have to listen to their endless zombie talk, how we were dead before we were alive, and all the other stupid shit kids say because you are half-dead, 39, kinda losing it with not a cent to your name.
Now you are listening to my zombie talk.
Fuck it. Read someone on the blogroll.
I Need To Clear Something Up
I am a fan of the news. I like watching news, hearing it, less so when I pull it out of a fortune cookie so see here now;
I hate Fox News. Yet, I seem to have a weakness for women who read the news. You would think I were a Fox viewer, and you are a fucking moron for thinking so. The women on Fox are not real. The women on Fox have their hair done up like a Jim Bakker wet dream and they all have the stare of a doe. I’ll come up with a Real Anchorwomen post sooner or later but let it be known that just because a girl is on TV that don’t mean I’m sitting there with my mouth open.
I just like the facts. When facts fall out of female mouths, and they happen to be extraordinarily vivacious, I go duuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhh. It is my god-damned privilege to be a God-Damned Idiot here on this blog as in life.
Acting Like A Dick
Is what I do. So much so that I would like to share something art-worthy that I found.
Penises and plaster are the material.
That’s right; someone used to cast penises, usually famous ones and uh, I don’t know what she does with them and it is not my job to ask.
But seriously, folks, Congress included, let’s stop acting like dicks. I done did it today by acknowledging yet another anchorgal crush on this site(see below). I also have space in a future harem for Hala Gorani, but will you SHUT UP RON thank you muchly and continue saying neat things about art, and being funny and gay and laughing all day at shit that ain’t funny.
I think this lady is hilarious. Go see her stuff if you are Chicago-bound, bless you on your pilgrimage.
You Assholes!
You were going to just go to work rather than let me know it is International Women’s Day?
I must not be trying at all. I can’t piss you off today. I’ll find a way. Shame on the boys, obviously, and shame on the girls. Obviously. I will post a picture of Erin Burnett because you have angered me so. Meow, here’s Erin:
Note briefly that I have not objectified Erin except as an object of fantasy, not boobs, legs or anything of the sort. She is whip smart, and has more style than any one of us could pull together.
But she is hot. Smoking hot.
