yep, we're living in a post nuclear age for sure and I'm just about on top of being one of those above referred to individuals because I've got nothing in the way of true love and family....on the surface..and possessions keep flowing into my space while all around me things are disintegrating...
literally..my son informed this summer such is the case with my house...it's going to topple over on its pins in another year or two...he said...welll..I've done what I can do about that..you throw money at a thing and hope that it'll get better but there you are...it doesn't because money isn't what it takes...relationships...love, passion...all my pension went into seeing that the house was shored up and liveable but when you're the main bait for and this is the funny part...gladhanded extraterrestrial boogies...hehe...what I have to call them...and perenially in love with mr wonderful rc cola...which you can't say because 'they' still hold the patent on the form itself (United Artists and such)...
so I sigh and wonder why it is there's twenty of everything in the house and you can see the confusion of the hoarder's mind...do I NEED twenty of everything??nope..but I have it...how many pair of shoes?? just bought another pair today and promptly got them all wet moving a ...dishwasher, which I already have one of , give to me free, like this one..ok...money is an issue, has been an issue..I think you could say hoarders in general have financial issues that have caused them to blow a gasket upstairs...in face...in my house the upstairs is an attic..and I've had a ladder posted on duty to get up there and empty it and I've been pretty good with that for several months but hit a brick wall when it came to the Halloween stuff..would you believe I have a blue fox fur short jacket in the Halloween stuff..if I could market that somewhere I could earn some bread to make some foundation repairs...and it sits disintegrating in the Halloween stuff along with platform shoes from Mexico that lace to the mid calf (very cool at any age and my size (sp??) because they were my daughter's) well I don't know that the blue Fox is disintegrating but somehow I think Mick Jagger gave that fur to me and hmmm...like that's gonna happen..but once upon a time there was a picture of him in a teen magazine and guess what he was sporting, gripping the mike...well, we called it the
"Mick Jagger special" ever after..because that was the first time we'd ever seen it..for reals...anywhere..and you'll have to figure out to which I refer...
so, the Hoarder's ethic...keep it because it's raining...
maybe it's dry, maybe it's cold, maybe it's the middle of a hot beautiful summer day and you're alone..that's what the keep the garbage thing is...not so much alone as recognizing there were times in your life when things were pretty good...even beautiful...and you aren't living that experience now...nope...you're posted via the ... to a place that you knew was going to be kind of rumcumslie
new word if you look at it in binary.cctt you'll see what I mean..kind an elaborate offworld sort of word to get past having your face seared off with a blowtorch when you walk into grandold macro cumdiddie's world...
hoarder's are fighting giving up..they accumulate...they do not process...process is a big thing...
they're working towards something and they're not sure exactly what that is...they'll find it someday...maybe they drink...and they forget...and they have a concept...and it's not a great one..you've seen them..a little pale from struggling with the attendant agoraphobia that seems to premeditate the anguish of stepping over yesterday's news, piled up ...dolls are a certainty.there's always a few, sometimes many and you know what those mean..once upon a time there was a demon named Chuckie who represented the myriads of dolls we had to face..he's gone and then there was the Insane Clown Posse to whose music I once painted my house and then had it repossessed in favor of the very name 'operation'..aka the first hoarder I ever knew, a gal named Opal Owens..very untrustworthy individual who wrote nice checks...(the doll factor)...so kind of grim this evening..they still can warp the news...these interlopers...if they are such..oh I think they are...and I think I'll have to get up in the attic and get out that blue fox and make myself some dinner tonight and watch the telly a bit and forget we elected donald the rump...and concentrate on a blue tomorrow where things like shingles are a means to covering a roof and not breaking out in a wreath of sore eye @ sis...
there you go, first notes on hoarding...(we hold the roof on while the soviet union tries to blow us all to kingdom come)...
the hoarder's manual page 1
literally..my son informed this summer such is the case with my house...it's going to topple over on its pins in another year or two...he said...welll..I've done what I can do about that..you throw money at a thing and hope that it'll get better but there you are...it doesn't because money isn't what it takes...relationships...love, passion...all my pension went into seeing that the house was shored up and liveable but when you're the main bait for and this is the funny part...gladhanded extraterrestrial boogies...hehe...what I have to call them...and perenially in love with mr wonderful rc cola...which you can't say because 'they' still hold the patent on the form itself (United Artists and such)...
so I sigh and wonder why it is there's twenty of everything in the house and you can see the confusion of the hoarder's mind...do I NEED twenty of everything??nope..but I have it...how many pair of shoes?? just bought another pair today and promptly got them all wet moving a ...dishwasher, which I already have one of , give to me free, like this one..ok...money is an issue, has been an issue..I think you could say hoarders in general have financial issues that have caused them to blow a gasket upstairs...in face...in my house the upstairs is an attic..and I've had a ladder posted on duty to get up there and empty it and I've been pretty good with that for several months but hit a brick wall when it came to the Halloween stuff..would you believe I have a blue fox fur short jacket in the Halloween stuff..if I could market that somewhere I could earn some bread to make some foundation repairs...and it sits disintegrating in the Halloween stuff along with platform shoes from Mexico that lace to the mid calf (very cool at any age and my size (sp??) because they were my daughter's) well I don't know that the blue Fox is disintegrating but somehow I think Mick Jagger gave that fur to me and hmmm...like that's gonna happen..but once upon a time there was a picture of him in a teen magazine and guess what he was sporting, gripping the mike...well, we called it the
"Mick Jagger special" ever after..because that was the first time we'd ever seen it..for reals...anywhere..and you'll have to figure out to which I refer...
so, the Hoarder's ethic...keep it because it's raining...
maybe it's dry, maybe it's cold, maybe it's the middle of a hot beautiful summer day and you're alone..that's what the keep the garbage thing is...not so much alone as recognizing there were times in your life when things were pretty good...even beautiful...and you aren't living that experience now...nope...you're posted via the ... to a place that you knew was going to be kind of rumcumslie
new word if you look at it in binary.cctt you'll see what I mean..kind an elaborate offworld sort of word to get past having your face seared off with a blowtorch when you walk into grandold macro cumdiddie's world...
hoarder's are fighting giving up..they accumulate...they do not process...process is a big thing...
they're working towards something and they're not sure exactly what that is...they'll find it someday...maybe they drink...and they forget...and they have a concept...and it's not a great one..you've seen them..a little pale from struggling with the attendant agoraphobia that seems to premeditate the anguish of stepping over yesterday's news, piled up ...dolls are a certainty.there's always a few, sometimes many and you know what those mean..once upon a time there was a demon named Chuckie who represented the myriads of dolls we had to face..he's gone and then there was the Insane Clown Posse to whose music I once painted my house and then had it repossessed in favor of the very name 'operation'..aka the first hoarder I ever knew, a gal named Opal Owens..very untrustworthy individual who wrote nice checks...(the doll factor)...so kind of grim this evening..they still can warp the news...these interlopers...if they are such..oh I think they are...and I think I'll have to get up in the attic and get out that blue fox and make myself some dinner tonight and watch the telly a bit and forget we elected donald the rump...and concentrate on a blue tomorrow where things like shingles are a means to covering a roof and not breaking out in a wreath of sore eye @ sis...
there you go, first notes on hoarding...(we hold the roof on while the soviet union tries to blow us all to kingdom come)...
the hoarder's manual page 1
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