ok, to date I have used my blogs as a means to an end..a way to end something I'm t hinking of that makes me feel 'mean'...as in the mien..I experience needs a good venting, so I blog it out of me...and it's worked pretty good b ut often is a libelous sit uation wherein I'm grossly overvented about whatever it was, which all works out in the end but during the transition to it being a good thing there's a place in there where to blog is to get rid of the overflowing venom of t he moment..and t hat works
the definition of 'b'log...to record in binary fashion a logging of events to me means the quoted resumption of felling trees (logging) meaning you didn't really cut them down but rather saved paper and circulation effort by writing in cyberspace and well, do you want everyone reading what you write? mmmm, maybe...if it's a good thing like my piece 'evolution of the post nuclear society'...all hip I was on t hat topic after several semesters at the college level learning about the science of sociology...and turns out I was familiar with demography already...so that worked that I should go all aldous huxley and quote myself in a logic parameter as far as why we hadn't really ever dropped any more nuclear weapons after H N...hmmm?? t hank goodness
which isn't to say I dislike the soviet union because I do...that country would like to incinerate t he rest of us and we're not having it but on the same level we can use nuclear technology to t urn that warring attit ude into lots of milk cows, cats and dogs, venison, twenty nine varieties of chicken pork fish and other protein edibles because atomic st uff just isn't likely to parsec bad intent...I don't think that particular science can work that way, otherwise chain reaction of HN would have lit the map ever since and does it? we are perched on the brink, certainly but as I recall from somewhere at St Martins' probably, the Trojan Horse was considered on the same level as HN...just deadly warfare waiting for curtain calls to send us all to h.e. double toot hpick...as it were
so be log..to be log...to blog, means as to let out the steam of t he observation process and record the transition of thought into process into intellectual output...well, I thought about it then I u sed t he computer and I wrote down my ideas...some blogs are very popular and the advertising on them is an actual lucrative element to the author...how nice...to be paid...great
like writing jokes for Seth Rogan...(somebody should, he's a pretty funny guy)...
Seth Rogan jokes: first off, get him decent material on the topic of human relations in the reproductive Zone...EITHER this guy hasn't ever had an experience in that department or he believes it's all a big heehaw and we should not be embarassed but crude, we'll be more comfortable with the entire situation if we ..do it t hat way. his first movie I saw 'he's having a baby' or something about being t he baby daddy when he wasn't, he was pretty good and right away he went to stellar with that one show...then he gets all chummy with adam sandler and the thing is like what, you both jumped in the cold pool and shriveled up your writing/comedic integrity being the jOb?? hmmm...somehow we s houldn't get produced if we're honing dribbles...but they do and people watch 'em because of their name...now, a good Seth Rogan joke? ..or mentor sandler...here's you go
an yeah, I think both these guys are like ssizzlllerrrs so why not be purrfect??
k...seth rogan...rogen?? right, oh yeah leave the jewish factor in too, it's always good, very plantangenet...
k...
seth: I'm up here on stage beca use one of my friends, name not to be shared, thinks I'm perfect husband material...why? I dunno know about that one, probably because I'm a dope whenever she's around...I mean, really, wh en she walks in the room I feel like a jar of peanut butter...all the gooey interior of that jar is me...spreadable, kind of tasty? it's like t his chick is a mind cannibal and she's got my number man...I feel damp all over, sorta sweaty, gooey and mostly, STUPID!! I mean, you could ask me my name and it'd be 'duhhhhhh' because of that chick magnet factor, she's got it, the whole deal, she's got it...well...I know I'm not the only one who feels like t hat when they're totally attracted to someone...my friend Jeanette, she lives halfway down south in t his major big city and she got this what they call a row house, I mean like you all row toget her if you're in a boat because the houses have common walls, you know, a big brick wall between each hooks t hem up so there's like fifteen on a block and they got one two t hree stories with something called a 'french' basement...AHH i GOT THAT WRONG ENGLISH BASEMENT...it's sometimes got an English basement where what? they used to hide the bodies, shovel t he coal, rent the thing out to do other peoples' laundry? anyways, nuff said, she gets t his house and it's cool, all torn up with the lathe showing, you know lathe, cheap little sticks of wood that now cost a fortune and all this frosting of plaster going over it so you got plaster walls...no drywall buddy, this is the real thing, you could hide uncle morty in there and the best sniffing German Shepard wouldn't find him...so back in the day when these were drug trading neighborhoods, this was a good option, you got the plaster walls, k t hen, we there...which is not what I'm talking about as far as being stupid but yeah, drugs do tend to make you turn out that way right? boy am I digressing...k...
so Jeannette, she gets this place on a street called Swann Street, which I thought was a good name for a ducky place like what she was going to do with that house...all sweet and simple up and she says she's got these riffraffy friends of hers in and outta there tearing up floors ceilings, plumbing, back yard ahhh. nope they didn't find no bones ceptin the ribs somebody was fond of and that giant great dane of hers Ezekiel (Zeke for short) made short work of those puppies...she says, she's in the front room one evening with her cronies and their blueprints and t heir ragrug weaving satchels, they were all into goofy crafting st uff at the time and were planning on writing a play and doing some music and maybe throwing around some plaster, oh yeah, Jeannette was casting st uff left and right there for a w hile...so anyway, she's kind of laying on the fllor on a quilt she made, we're all proud of did it myself t hing or we were...she's lying there and in comes this guy from NYC who makes her thump and bump and get really stupid...she can't help it, no way is she telling him that she's big time hot for him because he's one of those cause type people and if you know t hem, the cause comes first, then the human interaction.. so he walks in the room and high fives everybody and they all know him because they all subscribe to his cause, which as causes go was a kind of risky thing, it being t he dark ages before the legalization of marijuana...and t his fellow subsequently did major time over having that cause and we should give him a round of applause that he took it to the gate man yeah...ok
but jeanette she was like totally wrapped in that dude and it was she said he started it because she was cooking in the kitchen one fourth of july, probably that was the summer before and it was pouring rain and no way were they going to conduct any kind of radical demonstration on the mall by the White house when it was going this pour down...so she's in the kitchen putting together an apple pie and she happens to bend over in some cuttoffs blue jean that displayed bare anatomy and Cause Boy spied the nontush bare parts and Cupid's arrow went ZINGGGG right into his Damocles sword...I dunno in trying to clean up my act I reserve the right not to use inappropriate language to describe what differentiates men from women because both such elements are truly part of this little story...and in that case Jeannette's hearthrob was displaying a tumescence of outstanding proportion considering he was about 5'8 9...she said she could see eye to eye with him and she sat down in front of him with those long silky bare legs of hers and the aroma of the apple pie hot out of the oven on the table infront of them...well everyone in the room jumped up and dove on the pie because t here was a moment there when it was like true love got ground up to powder and turned into so much plaster...at least in Jeannette's mind she got totally stupid in that moment and for the next year did nothing but write to Cause Boy and tell him in every letter in a DIFFERENT way...why she was in love with him...well, he didn't give her the time of day and never has...not once, he didn't respond t hen, other than to let her see for two seconds that he had a ...what the dog dug up in her backyard because former tenants had a fondness for barbeque...and Jeannette said it was her year of being stupid when he walked in the room the winter of the summer when she'd made the pie...and she couldn't get up from the floor but laid there listening to his voice trembling because he had t his voice t hat went right t hrough ya...kind of like a drill press you know? miter saw...dentist's filling tool...blow torch...and he was in the next room sticking his finger in the so ur cream dip yakkkin on about tuna fish sandwiches for dinner and chocolate milk...and she was under the covers by t hen, trying to squeeze herself under the couch because it wasn't s ummer any more and she wasn't wearing her c utoffs and baking pies but lying on the floor in her living room having a life getting over the back he had th at summer displayed t he outlines of a part of his anatomy to her that indicated there really is a thing called cupid's arrow...or that cupid exists...so after that winter visit when she said not a word to him but wrote him all that 'florid prose'...about dang...I shudda gone for it but h ow could I? why didn't I why shouldn't I wouldn't you like to? com'on buddy, let's ...I hear that barry white guy singing that tune about now because t hat is w here Jeannette was at...and she realized after a year's worth of letters that cause boy was sticking true to his cause and she was nothing more to him than a hot apple pie fresh out of the oven set on the table...with bare legs...
and cause boy went back to Hell's Kitchen where he had hotwired /diverted/ConEd power and so forth to run a kind of rats in the woodwork sort of operation of which he was the total guru and no time for Jeannette who grieved about it, writing as she did about whatever went on with all the passion of a person who does get stupid when they fall in love...oh man...ahhh...I sigh here because that's great that we can lau gh about those feelings but they are what makes the world go round and hopefully those of us intended to have them as part of our life's experience get to make it all the way around the bases to homeplate in a state of consciousness...Jeannette said t hat if Cause Boy had act ually accepted her responses to his covering up the remains of rib dinners from the barbeque over on 14th and T...such might have been true love and justice and maybe little CB's and CG's running everwhere...reall irony of this story? Cause Boy lived right up the street from the club CBGB;'s...how's that for irony? sighs...
I lifted this plate off the dishrack and I inspected it to see if I could see my face in it and I could so I used it to eat up the french toast that gave me the inspiration to write t his...nah...my gags person did that but as it happens, I find it an amusing little story of love in the big city dog bones and all....
the definition of 'b'log...to record in binary fashion a logging of events to me means the quoted resumption of felling trees (logging) meaning you didn't really cut them down but rather saved paper and circulation effort by writing in cyberspace and well, do you want everyone reading what you write? mmmm, maybe...if it's a good thing like my piece 'evolution of the post nuclear society'...all hip I was on t hat topic after several semesters at the college level learning about the science of sociology...and turns out I was familiar with demography already...so that worked that I should go all aldous huxley and quote myself in a logic parameter as far as why we hadn't really ever dropped any more nuclear weapons after H N...hmmm?? t hank goodness
which isn't to say I dislike the soviet union because I do...that country would like to incinerate t he rest of us and we're not having it but on the same level we can use nuclear technology to t urn that warring attit ude into lots of milk cows, cats and dogs, venison, twenty nine varieties of chicken pork fish and other protein edibles because atomic st uff just isn't likely to parsec bad intent...I don't think that particular science can work that way, otherwise chain reaction of HN would have lit the map ever since and does it? we are perched on the brink, certainly but as I recall from somewhere at St Martins' probably, the Trojan Horse was considered on the same level as HN...just deadly warfare waiting for curtain calls to send us all to h.e. double toot hpick...as it were
so be log..to be log...to blog, means as to let out the steam of t he observation process and record the transition of thought into process into intellectual output...well, I thought about it then I u sed t he computer and I wrote down my ideas...some blogs are very popular and the advertising on them is an actual lucrative element to the author...how nice...to be paid...great
like writing jokes for Seth Rogan...(somebody should, he's a pretty funny guy)...
Seth Rogan jokes: first off, get him decent material on the topic of human relations in the reproductive Zone...EITHER this guy hasn't ever had an experience in that department or he believes it's all a big heehaw and we should not be embarassed but crude, we'll be more comfortable with the entire situation if we ..do it t hat way. his first movie I saw 'he's having a baby' or something about being t he baby daddy when he wasn't, he was pretty good and right away he went to stellar with that one show...then he gets all chummy with adam sandler and the thing is like what, you both jumped in the cold pool and shriveled up your writing/comedic integrity being the jOb?? hmmm...somehow we s houldn't get produced if we're honing dribbles...but they do and people watch 'em because of their name...now, a good Seth Rogan joke? ..or mentor sandler...here's you go
an yeah, I think both these guys are like ssizzlllerrrs so why not be purrfect??
k...seth rogan...rogen?? right, oh yeah leave the jewish factor in too, it's always good, very plantangenet...
k...
seth: I'm up here on stage beca use one of my friends, name not to be shared, thinks I'm perfect husband material...why? I dunno know about that one, probably because I'm a dope whenever she's around...I mean, really, wh en she walks in the room I feel like a jar of peanut butter...all the gooey interior of that jar is me...spreadable, kind of tasty? it's like t his chick is a mind cannibal and she's got my number man...I feel damp all over, sorta sweaty, gooey and mostly, STUPID!! I mean, you could ask me my name and it'd be 'duhhhhhh' because of that chick magnet factor, she's got it, the whole deal, she's got it...well...I know I'm not the only one who feels like t hat when they're totally attracted to someone...my friend Jeanette, she lives halfway down south in t his major big city and she got this what they call a row house, I mean like you all row toget her if you're in a boat because the houses have common walls, you know, a big brick wall between each hooks t hem up so there's like fifteen on a block and they got one two t hree stories with something called a 'french' basement...AHH i GOT THAT WRONG ENGLISH BASEMENT...it's sometimes got an English basement where what? they used to hide the bodies, shovel t he coal, rent the thing out to do other peoples' laundry? anyways, nuff said, she gets t his house and it's cool, all torn up with the lathe showing, you know lathe, cheap little sticks of wood that now cost a fortune and all this frosting of plaster going over it so you got plaster walls...no drywall buddy, this is the real thing, you could hide uncle morty in there and the best sniffing German Shepard wouldn't find him...so back in the day when these were drug trading neighborhoods, this was a good option, you got the plaster walls, k t hen, we there...which is not what I'm talking about as far as being stupid but yeah, drugs do tend to make you turn out that way right? boy am I digressing...k...
so Jeannette, she gets this place on a street called Swann Street, which I thought was a good name for a ducky place like what she was going to do with that house...all sweet and simple up and she says she's got these riffraffy friends of hers in and outta there tearing up floors ceilings, plumbing, back yard ahhh. nope they didn't find no bones ceptin the ribs somebody was fond of and that giant great dane of hers Ezekiel (Zeke for short) made short work of those puppies...she says, she's in the front room one evening with her cronies and their blueprints and t heir ragrug weaving satchels, they were all into goofy crafting st uff at the time and were planning on writing a play and doing some music and maybe throwing around some plaster, oh yeah, Jeannette was casting st uff left and right there for a w hile...so anyway, she's kind of laying on the fllor on a quilt she made, we're all proud of did it myself t hing or we were...she's lying there and in comes this guy from NYC who makes her thump and bump and get really stupid...she can't help it, no way is she telling him that she's big time hot for him because he's one of those cause type people and if you know t hem, the cause comes first, then the human interaction.. so he walks in the room and high fives everybody and they all know him because they all subscribe to his cause, which as causes go was a kind of risky thing, it being t he dark ages before the legalization of marijuana...and t his fellow subsequently did major time over having that cause and we should give him a round of applause that he took it to the gate man yeah...ok
but jeanette she was like totally wrapped in that dude and it was she said he started it because she was cooking in the kitchen one fourth of july, probably that was the summer before and it was pouring rain and no way were they going to conduct any kind of radical demonstration on the mall by the White house when it was going this pour down...so she's in the kitchen putting together an apple pie and she happens to bend over in some cuttoffs blue jean that displayed bare anatomy and Cause Boy spied the nontush bare parts and Cupid's arrow went ZINGGGG right into his Damocles sword...I dunno in trying to clean up my act I reserve the right not to use inappropriate language to describe what differentiates men from women because both such elements are truly part of this little story...and in that case Jeannette's hearthrob was displaying a tumescence of outstanding proportion considering he was about 5'8 9...she said she could see eye to eye with him and she sat down in front of him with those long silky bare legs of hers and the aroma of the apple pie hot out of the oven on the table infront of them...well everyone in the room jumped up and dove on the pie because t here was a moment there when it was like true love got ground up to powder and turned into so much plaster...at least in Jeannette's mind she got totally stupid in that moment and for the next year did nothing but write to Cause Boy and tell him in every letter in a DIFFERENT way...why she was in love with him...well, he didn't give her the time of day and never has...not once, he didn't respond t hen, other than to let her see for two seconds that he had a ...what the dog dug up in her backyard because former tenants had a fondness for barbeque...and Jeannette said it was her year of being stupid when he walked in the room the winter of the summer when she'd made the pie...and she couldn't get up from the floor but laid there listening to his voice trembling because he had t his voice t hat went right t hrough ya...kind of like a drill press you know? miter saw...dentist's filling tool...blow torch...and he was in the next room sticking his finger in the so ur cream dip yakkkin on about tuna fish sandwiches for dinner and chocolate milk...and she was under the covers by t hen, trying to squeeze herself under the couch because it wasn't s ummer any more and she wasn't wearing her c utoffs and baking pies but lying on the floor in her living room having a life getting over the back he had th at summer displayed t he outlines of a part of his anatomy to her that indicated there really is a thing called cupid's arrow...or that cupid exists...so after that winter visit when she said not a word to him but wrote him all that 'florid prose'...about dang...I shudda gone for it but h ow could I? why didn't I why shouldn't I wouldn't you like to? com'on buddy, let's ...I hear that barry white guy singing that tune about now because t hat is w here Jeannette was at...and she realized after a year's worth of letters that cause boy was sticking true to his cause and she was nothing more to him than a hot apple pie fresh out of the oven set on the table...with bare legs...
and cause boy went back to Hell's Kitchen where he had hotwired /diverted/ConEd power and so forth to run a kind of rats in the woodwork sort of operation of which he was the total guru and no time for Jeannette who grieved about it, writing as she did about whatever went on with all the passion of a person who does get stupid when they fall in love...oh man...ahhh...I sigh here because that's great that we can lau gh about those feelings but they are what makes the world go round and hopefully those of us intended to have them as part of our life's experience get to make it all the way around the bases to homeplate in a state of consciousness...Jeannette said t hat if Cause Boy had act ually accepted her responses to his covering up the remains of rib dinners from the barbeque over on 14th and T...such might have been true love and justice and maybe little CB's and CG's running everwhere...reall irony of this story? Cause Boy lived right up the street from the club CBGB;'s...how's that for irony? sighs...
I lifted this plate off the dishrack and I inspected it to see if I could see my face in it and I could so I used it to eat up the french toast that gave me the inspiration to write t his...nah...my gags person did that but as it happens, I find it an amusing little story of love in the big city dog bones and all....
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