I need a fucking pommel horse.

INTERVIEWER: So, how long did this take?

MAN: Yeah, this took me like five-hundred hours to construct. (starts doing lunges in the direction of INTERVIEWER).

INTERVIEWER: Why are you doing that?

MAN: What am I looking for?

INTERVIEWER: What are you looking for?

MAN: Yes, what am I looking for?

INTERVIEWER: I - I - Don't know what you're looking for, sir.

MAN: Me neither.  Why am I doing lunges at you?

INTERVIEWER: Hey, who's interviewing who here?

MAN: I - I - Don't know.  I don't know those sorts of thing.  Where did you go to college?

INTERVIEWER: I'm leaving this room right now to go on and do better things than answer stupid questions!  I'm the asker, MAN!  I'M THE ASKER!!!

(INTERVIEWER leaves)
(MAN lunges)

Homework

palsy (n) - paralysis

Euroclydon (n) - a cyclonic tempestuous wind which blows in the Meditteranean.

zephyr (n) - soft, gentle breeze

hob (n, british) - flat top part of a cooker, or a separate flat surface, containing gas or electric rings for cooking on.

extant (adj) - still existing  

wight (n) - person, creature, being, whit, thing, something, anything.

glazier (n) - a person whose profession is fitting glass into windows and doors.

copestone (n) - a finishing touch or a crowning achievement, a culmination.






"It was a queer sort of place --- a gable-ended old house, one side palsied as it were, and leaning over sadly.  It stood on a sharp bleak corner, where that tempestuous wind Euroclydon kept up a worse howling than ever it did about poor Paul's tossed craft.  Euroclydon, nevertheless, is a mighty pleasant zephyr to any one in-doors, with his feet on the hob quietly toasting for bed, "In judging of that tempestuous wind called Euroclydon," says an old writer   --- of whose works I possess the only copy extant --- "it maketh a marvellous difference, whether thou lookest out at it from a glass window where the frost is all on the outside, or whether thou observest it from that sashless window, where the frost is on both sides, and of which the wight Death is the only glazier."  True enough, though , as this passage occurred to my mind --- old black-letter, thou reasonest well.  Yes, these eyes are windows, and this body of mine is the house.  What a pity they didn't stop up the chinks and the crannies though, and thrust a little lint here and there.  But it's too late to make any improvements now.  The universe is finished; the copestone is on, and the chips were carted off a million years ago." 


-pg. 14

Loggo Loogo Logogs

A TREE DIDN'T KILL WALTER,
A LOG FELL ON HIM.

A TREE DID NOT KILL WALTER,
A LOG FELL ON HIM.

TREES DO NOT KILL WALTERS,
LOGS FALL ON THEM.

Compost Bin, and Fence

 I thought she was a robot at first, the poor grammar and misplaced periods.
Her dogs liked me but her daughter didn't say much,
only three:  _ Space boots_, camouflage helmet, and wood-stained picture of a waterfall.


No, that's a lake.

Olde Chub

Why is it not possible to think our perception of life as just the outer layer wrapped around the insides and enveloped within larger containers?

A nesting doll of consciousnesses.  Growing infinitesimally large and right now we're stuck somewhere in there, could be near the end or closer to the beginning, there's no way to tell.  We experience anterior and posterior layers during sleep but right now we're stuck inbetween them as long as we're breathing.

When we die, if you could really call it a death, maybe we just go on to whatever's next, and this life will be but merely a dream in the next and so on and so on and so forth.

And probably there really is no end.  Maybe not even a beginning.  How beautiful to think.

=Something to groove on=

borangutan

It's a safe, you know, like a safe in which you can lock up your things.  But not any regular safe, it's a big one, big enough to fit your house and your car and your RV and your swimming pool and your motorcycle and your clubhouse and your microwave and your fountain and all the rest of your things in.  It's a giant safe, with a lock on the outside and everything.  Just think, how nice would it be to leave all your belongings in a protrusive, multi-steel-enameled, impenetrable recepticle of stalwartidy and satchelbaggerybetterness.?  Good.  That's what it would be.  Good.  A damn good thing.

It comes with a key so you can lock the shit all up in it. It's a fairly small key, considering the size of the safe; only ten feet long and made of solid igneous rock.  The best thing about this key is that it's difficult to lose and you can show it to all your friends.  Well you'll have to, because of course you'll be bringing it with you wherever you go as a reminder that all your acquired maintenances are nice and secure.  Good thing.  Who knows the types of people out there, lurking about with hoods and bad ideas, no-good.  They want your things.  They'll take them if they're not locked up.  Leave your keys unattended, WHAM, stolen.  Leave your car on the curb and WHOA, there it goes.  Leave your house out and SHIT WHATCHOUT, no more house.  Yeah schucks, To some people it's like a game of marbles or jacks or the one where you bounce the rubber ball and snatch up as many pointed plastic spikes as you can before the ball hits the ground.

UUUUhhhhh then catch it.