kanji

11 February, 2006
white pepper ice cream

ever since the sun went down, i've been snacking like a madman. it's as if this inner walrus is packing on the calories for the Big One.

i can feel it, oozing overhead. when i was out grilling some sockeye (31.5°, delightful barbecue weather), the lazery pinpricks of stars bit between the ribs of the mimosa tree... almost too piercing. the air, too clean, supercooled. i'd cleaned up, indoors, and skipped back out in just a sweater to cover things back up... this oily-white film of haze was lapping in like a tide, making the moon look mushy.

this is going to suck. or not. another weekend in solitary confinement might just be the straw that break's the camel's back, or prods me into devising changes. because, oh yes, the changes need to be made. sell things, draw things, write incendiary letters to congressmen (if to reason is still to be sane)...maybe start moving this ton of vinyl and books and start stripping the walls down in the computer room for painting.

but first...

i had to sit on my ass and watch the OpeningCeremoniesofOlympicsTorino.

now, i saw what Golfwidow had to say about it, and i agree: these's commercial bullshit, smarmy half-unintelligible drivel (from US announcers!), jingoism and stars-and-stripes chest-pounding, and unbearable poetry spoken about ice dancing... but i had to watch this anyway. there might be plenty of snow ambiance for proper appreciation.and, i've got one extra day of leave to burn if i have to burrow in here with it, without jeopardizing my frolic. nudge-nudge.

to the above list, i would have to add prepostorously uncomfortable operatic displays (it's so gay it would turn RichardSimmons into the SugarPlumFairy), unspeakable alpineMatterhorn gowns the processions were led with, to the chaotic mix of BarryWhite-VillagePeople-GloriaGaynor-DepecheMode-NightFeverDiscoInfernoWhatTheFuck (US disco? doesn't the World hate us enough, already?), and hats that make me laugh out loud (except for the Russian girls... mmm... they're pushing the anime/hentai envelope with the fur earflaps, as absurd as that sounds. and i've got my eye on a cute Slovenian).

just when i wanted to dump the whole think in the dustbin with the SuperBowl bacchanal... here comes MichaelSchumacher, doing donuts in the Ring with the new Ferrari. Fuck YEAH.

...and my last moment of doubt was swept over with Pavarotti's reading of Puccini's "Nessun Dorma", which never fails to squeeze me in the gut... one "operatic display" i can make room for in my JoeStrummer mind.

so, yeah... this is going to be a test. and as long as this connection holds up, there might be some changes.

in my waistband, likely.

.


hit me with your rhythm stick




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