What more could happen?

I crawl out of the rubble of Christmas. None the worse for the wear/war, I'd actually be so optimistic as to say: Better.
("better" meaning: better)

That's me. A regular old hopeful.

Because of this friendly feeling I'm nursing, I'm going to hold back from the nitty gritty of my holiday season. Hope it felt Christmasy to at least some...it doesn't seem to be the popular consensus.

I'm in Houston.
Till New Years.

Then I'll be on the Border.

My car is shaking like a small boy and I'm strapped for cash. Oddly enough, this too makes me feel hopeful.

This afternoon, after driving to one too many seedy little car shops trying to get the car realigned; Steve urging me to put on "some womanly charms" and get us some discounts(chauvanistic bastard), we found an even seedier little joint with the uninformative words Country Club painted in red above the door and which from under wafted the irresistable stench of Redneck. Sweet, sweet authenticity.
Played some pool and knocked back some brewskys. Even hit up the jukebox.
Score: 1 - 1

I lost a bet and decided instead of a pool shark, I'll settle for being a pool pirhana and COMPLETELY off the subject, the one thing wrong with being an athiest is that there's no one to talk to during an orgasm.



emo. tional.

The forest is empty.

The trees give sound to the gentle breeze that no-one would hear. The leaves flutter in the almost hypnotic way that stirs the emotion in even the coldest hearts.

The soft clouds seem to walk ever onward; traveling in their peaceful way, on to destinations that no one will follow.

The lake is a single plane of glass.

You can hear the sound of the wild birds, cheerfully calling to each other in their serene tone.
You can the feel the wind, mussing your hair with its gentlest of fingers.
You can smell the pine and cedar needles that have cushioned your walk.
You can clearly make out the face of the person you are holding under the water.

--McNostril circa. 2005

I do NOT have multiple orgas...personalities, no really I don't.

Pyscho Boy - Low growly voice. Absolutely no relation to me whatsoever. Total pervert.

Nicole - "All dees cwuerves; fo me, fo fwee." Conflicted and self-centered. Is perpetually on the verge of sleep. Completely loveable.

(meg)Guido - En utero foetus. He grows and shrinks with subsequent meals. Understands me well. Convenient to talk to.

Gintin - Mute. Seems crafty but we have no way of knowing. Favorite game: Capture the Flag.

Liz - Vulnerable.


Guido -- "don't worry little guy, they didn't mean it."

I have a crazy little tummy.

For as many reasons as there are answers, I have no excuse for my behavior.

Wait. I do...
No. I was mistaken.



Life with Mr and Mrs Systemite

Jamie and Heidi have graciously allowed me to stay with them for the week leading up to Christmas (You'll let me know if I can do anything for you in return?..Any Thing) and a funner (ha. it is too a word) bunch of people is hard to find.

I'm sitting here wishing I was a brilliant musician right about now. Cause there's some hefty emotion sloshing around in my chest and it's of the musical variety. Maybe I'll pick up the old Takemine and see if I get Channeled Through.

Benign, would describe the past couple weeks for me leading up to this past week when I was repayed for the time off by tripling the score.
I'm not nervous.
This is what I live for. X-treme sporting in its own spirit.
Rollercoasterings' got nothing on it.

I just went off and started up a stream of tempest but I'll save it for when it's in a less raw form. Polish up the edges a bit and commercialize it for the general public.

I feel me again.


we fought your wars with all our hearts,
you sent us back in body parts,
you took our wills with the truth you stole,
we offer prayers for your long lost soul,

the remainder is
an unjustifiable,
power struggle,
at the expense of the American dream,
of the American dream, of the American,
of the American

we don't give a damn about your world,
with all your global profits,
and all your jeweled pearls
we don't give a damn about your world
right now, right now

there is no flag that is large enough,
to hide the shame of a man in cuffs,
you switched the signs then you closed our blinds,
you changed the channel then you changed our minds

you bring about the stick
we bring about confusion
bring about the solution
bring about the fusion
bring about the collusion
bring about the Revolution
bring about the Revolution


(if I was in your shoes, I'd be furious)


I spy.

The obligatory Juvenile Detention Center programme went off without a hitch. Besides only having two microphones for 8 people.
We sang our little hearts out;
They clapped and cried, whooped and wiggled.

Look at all these happy volunteers. What mad hipsters, no?
I want you to look closely at the picture though. There's more to it than meets the eye.

Notice what Seth is demonstrating and the look on Haven's face. What does it say to you?

Then also there's this rogue, I like the look of love in his eyes and also the subtle heart he's shaping with his hands:

And last but not least,"WTF?"

Like I said, Mad Hipsters all.


Small beginnings. greater ends?

My younger (not so little) brother has taken up photography after finding an ancient digital camera at a yard sale. It actually uses a floppy disk to save the files on. It's too sweet. (Sorry, you camera nerds, I can't tell you what it is but trust me, you're missing out)
The other morning he went around snapping random pictures of us about our breakfast and business. These are the result. I think he's got a good eye. Check it.

Little Johnny Trembleton
My best ideas come whilst brushing my teeth.
"Damn. She tasted better last night."


And such is our merry little christmas feeling.
Thanks for that, bro.


They got the right idea..

Muah ha ha ha ha..

accidental ambition..

Platypus was dismayed to discover that instead of an egg, it had evidentally laid the Sun.
Art by Ursulav.

Holiday Cheer, Liz Style.

I should be packing but I'm writing.
I should be doing a lot of things I'm not but I don't and hence it makes me a loose cannon. Where does one find the balance between individuality and conforming to avoid martyrdom. I'm sure I don't know.
(don't get me wrong, I'm not striving for cannonization)

I'm excited because I'm moving again and as we all know, it's what I'm best at.
Let me tell you, friends, Christmas is a good time to move. All the decorations and lights along the road give you a real nice feeling to warm the cockles of your heart as the hours/miles/thoughts fly by. A good buddy of mine wrote a touching carol that sang something like this:

I'm all alone,
crying on the back of the bus.
I'm all alone,
Merry Christmas.

But I'm shy of being melancholy. I'd prefer to take a hit and keep on coming because I'm all about some righteous climax.



This is the KGB posterchild.

Yell it out with me now.

We are hope.
We are your unpredictable messenger.
We WILL change your history.

Follow through.



The humble improve.


This one time, at band camp..

My favorite mongoloid duo:

What ensued can only be described as...legendary.