Saturday, May 10, 2008

If anyone is out there to recall then you will recall that I present as a virulent anti smoker. But, since the life of a serial killing soccer mom is rife with hypocrisy from the get go it shouldn't come as much of a shock that I smoke like a chimney. The cliche doesn't bother me there.
So, I just took a stroll to get some cancer sticks and once again I am smarting from what I had to witness out there. Firstly, the cigarette store in walking distance is soon going out of business and being replaced by" the coffee collective and tea too. I swear to you this is true. If I were a wolf I'd howl at the moon but since I must present as a sheep I just bleat to the arab cigarette seller about how I'll miss them .
And then there is literally a man who has no face that i keep seeing everytime I leave the house. I first came upon this in the wretched comedy store to watch the open mike of the bigger boned younger spinster sister. she wants to make her mother happy since the pancreas incident( which deserves it's own blog) and so she was there sharing her gloriousness with those scoundrels for the allotted three minutes given to the "comics" So, there another first in a line of firsts this year, is where I witnessed the man without a face. Oh, the phone is ringing. Gotta go. Oh, I keep forgetting I don't need to get off since I have dsl. Multitasking rocks is what my "norma" awful teen daughter might say about that. Oh, speaking of the devil, it's the spinster sister on the phone. I am talking to her as I type. I hope she doesn't mind. She's an avid reader of my blog and I hope she doesn't mind me mentioning her here. She, her sister and her mother are the only personages I've come across that don't stir my blood lust to the degree that the majority do. I plan to promote their artistry the minute my readership reaches a less embarrassing level. They are nearly hopeless when it comes to self promotion- A sarteian nausea overtakes them when they have to try to sell their goods. Niether can seem to make a business card much less pass one out so business is not booming, as they say. Anyway, as I listen to the dulcet tones of this spinster sister it occurs to me that the spurious restraining order is getting funner by the minute . The spinster sister has unearthed such evidence that proves malice aforethought, as they say. Yay. The internet wich I take issue with in many respects in this instance is a savior.
So the hot Jason Castro is off the show. I'd do him. Is that what you want, dear reader? Do you want me to tell you how I spotted Ian Zeiring and Bobby Trendy at the ride aid on fairfax. And how they smiled at me. Everyone smiles at me for some reason . If they only knew. Or must I finagle some linkage with Arrianna or Harvey or Perez to soar in this brave new world. Tell me dear reader, is it my template.?Am I not making use of some template? What the fuck is a template? Am I allowed to cuss on a blog? What the fuck is a feed and what do I do with it. Too much technology, too soon. make it stop. I am losing control of this blog and it will take a webmaster to save me now. Should I hire one? Will he have to know my real identity.

There is a man whose face is not there. not poetically. Not metaphorically. The man has no face and I was told at the comedy club that he does his 3 minutes and doesn't acknowledge that he has no face. I hope he never winds up here and reads this because that would break my heart, but he has no face and worse of all: worst of all: he lost his face after a failed suicide. No No that's not the worst part- the really worst part is that he is a bad comedian. That is what they told me at the comedy store(that hovel of flop sweat and forced guffaws). I can't bear it and I can't find my cigarettes. Oh. I will post and when I find my cigarettes I will tell you if I'm ok. are you ok?
Post a Comment

Stef Willen's Disaster, Literally.

In the history of publishing, there is a fascinating history of memoirs that get pulled from publication, after an eagle eyed reader or rea...