put your twitter in your shi#&*(

For fucks sake, I'm being invited to join twitter by someone I don't think I know. Why would I join this twitter? I haven't been able to rationilize joining myspace or facebook and now twitter is here! Twitter? I looked at it and I can't see it offering me anything of any substance.
Can a handbasket handle all this hell? Can I hear a collective NO. NO to nightclubs with velvet ropes(though I get in!) NO to any lines where a meathead says yay or nay. NO to more yogurt shops will names that only serve to confuse. NO to the apathy of there being a homeless person for every street in L.A(it seems) No to manequins with stuffed bikini breifs. NO to bitches and bastards getting away with it. NO to advertisements on busses that can't be avoided. NO to billboards, also leaves us without choice to ignore. NO to Sad attempts to pretend are coffee is grande or tall or venti. NO to coffee houses without any hope of "cafe society." No to stale scones. Well, that's silly, but I'm sure it's a problem.

Obviously this is rant and Gustave(the name of the King of Sweden Btw) might or might not terrorize some fine people who will suffer and suffer. I knew Hurrican Fay would be a non-event. The king and queen of hurricanes need names such as Gustave and Katrina. Fay, Seth, or Tiffany,I'd bet, will never get above category 2.

Tila Tequila had a million or more My space friends. Need I say more? 30 plus year olds are trudging to twitter when their facebook "friends." suggest they do so. I really feel the world has gotten very lame when I see gray hairs falling in step with this idiocy.

Saw a CNN special on Obama and it confirmed my immediate and lasting impressions of him-- An egotist who could care very little about his fellow man. I can't help but think I'm quicker than most because I figured out that Tyra Banks was wicked from day one of her next failed model show. The people on TWOP took seasons to come to the same conclusion. Obama is no Tyra but I feel sure that it will just take many longer to come around to this fake.

I sense that Michelle Obama doesn't enjoy any of this and resents his ego engorgement.


What else? I predict that Tina Fey will play this v.p pick Palin on S.N.L, and that it won't be funny. Palin sounds like Jiminy Glick's wife, Daisy. Whatever happened to Jan Hooks? Probably producing an episode of "Third watch" or whetever the hell they produce after the fame dissapears.

Labor day-- must arrange labor day events and do fitting labor day things which I think is making a barbecue or ending up on some beach somewhere. I think wings and jalapeno poppers should be served at some point to a bevy of revelers. I'm not sure.
Maybe fried zuccini and potato skins with fixins are more appropriate. Or is that for the fourth of July? Oh, these specialized mondays are stressing me out. On Veterans day I made a spinach dip and it felt all wrong.

Either way, I plan to live well, always make appetizers, and get the best revenge. Is that the quote?

I've done my bit to foment a revolution today. And you?

bad poetry, dead poets, and me. focus groups and muffins too. art and shit

My suspicions have been confirmed. People are just not buying into the fact that I am one of the most prolific serial killers still at large and plying my trade etc. I think there is an assumption that someone who slays en masse wouldn't have a blog where they make no secret of their lethal little hobby. Assumptions truly can make an ass of you. That is no lie.

Anyhow, I hate it when I get so behind in my blogging that I have too many topics to cover and I just don't know where to start. I had a lovely anonymous commenter ask me about focus groups and this makes me want to go off on a tear about my experiences and opinions about focus groups. Then, I want to keep promoting Delmont Klien and the spinster family. And, then I want to discuss my legal woes and how I am dealing with them. Then, I want to dish some celeb gossip or make jokes about Obama. Too much.

I'll need a whole 10 minutes of undisturbed time to get it all out and I fear that won't happen today, dear taters.

Okay, the taters thing isn't working so well and I'm hereby dropping it from my blog repertoire. I love the fancy words and they .... they don't love me. No more taters, taters.

That alone is a blog entry: Language and its discontents. As you see, I am full of stuff and need to stuff it somewhere.

At this point the non legions of viewers are scratching thier heads or straining their eyes or shaking thier restless legs or doing it is whatever one does when a blog is confounding or nonsensical or absurd or tedious or whatever adjective one chooses, really.

The muffin venture is going along semi smoothly. Tea and muffins seem a sure bet according to the focus group and the zogby poll. I've hired Frank Luntz of Luntz polling fame to start a round of focus groups and soon we'lll feel really secure that we are on the right track.

Frank Luntz: I will discuss him soon. I think I need to start a vblog. I finally get around to blogging and now the pressure to vblog is upon me. So hard to keep up. I got a webcam yesterday and my goodness the possibilities are so very endless. Frank Luntz will google his name today( I've met the man) and see this. I'm sure of it.

I think I'm going to do a vblog with mommy henya because she is just a very amusing woman and says funny things all the day long.

I think I need to go back on the adderall. I decided that it was making me too intense and that I was presenting as a bit loony to my more sedate brothers and sisters. But, I still am presenting as intense and loony and now I can't focus in the slightest either.

Muffins, yes muffins. Polling. Yes, Polling. Obama. Yes, obama. Floods. So many floods. Man and non man made disasters everywhere.

Punctuation. Never learned it. Can't grasp it. Don't think I ever will. I think I get away with it, but since most people are too polite and/or frightened of my tendency towards homicide, I never feel secure that I'm getting the criticism that lurks within the hearts of each and every human being. What a mess this entry is turning into.

I think I am just going to post some Delmont Klien and some art by the smaller boned spinster sister. Delmont wrote this maudlin shit when he was 27 years old and little did he know it would get worse. But, he did live till 58 and died from natural causes so that's a victory of sorts.

Passport

I'll get there yet
to that common threat
of
reaching out
to a bottomless pit
every fiber defies me
to say
okay!
I want to
travel light
fight the sky
touch the sun
and then say

bye bye

I’ve traveled light
i’ve traveled deep
I ‘ve traveled so far
just in my sleep

different lights
meant different
sights
I traveled mostly in my chair

I went back
and I went forth

I went down
and I went
North

In the west
as in the south
I found the east
coasting about

It too was lacking
So again i started packing
I ran or strolled
to a future
untold

When I unbold, I

slunk and I whispered
in the best of times
I shouted in rythm and

ryhmes

Been to Madagasscar, Crete
Tibet , Rome
and still I need to head on home
and make my way
and pass the day
It rains in all those places a
and it takes so long
to get there
the waterworks stay the same
here.
I have the tears
and stamped passport
I have the fear of
the fearsome sort
I must stay still
and find it here--
the elusive
intrusive
last resort
the all inclusive plan
the combustible sponteinety
of moving at whim and
ignoring the imploring sages-
my diary is full
of empty or

scribbled pages

I am stuck at a station
and he of creation
has not pointed his finger
at me
I choose my transport
carefully
and lie low
till it hits
my bus, train , plain
knows where to go

I am caught in the trap
of ignoring the
map
and that is why things are so
the left turn
turned on
me
the right turn
was not free
the middle ground was muddy
mud
muddy
had to go back
once more
and get what was lacked


and had to go so many miles

unraveled

on roads

well and not well

travelled.

Made my way and made my bed,
like robert frost before me.
I'll end up dead
If I die violently

my blood will pour out

red

the honey will finally be free

of it's hive

What's that?

I know I know

I'm still alive.