moon lesbians

What shall we use to fill the empty spaces,
Where we used to talk?
How shall I fill the final places?
How shall I complete the wall?

[glad i got that out]

giving

the slurper the slip:
part time job.
ends tomorrow. not soon enough.

item # 41863(a)

or, people who take their jobs too seriously:

"We'll run the risk.."
"What's the worst case scenario..."

Annoying, annoying people.

got any to add?

to:
uncle anus
I think you should go ahead and just do what you need to do. F those rumor mongering whores!

stop the slurping

so i realize that it is some sort of Asian culture thing to slurp the shit outta your food. i can respect that.
but don't come into my fookin cube and sit behind me and slurp and chomp every item of food you have to eat on your breaks. find somewhere else.
fercrissakes, please. don't make me stab you with a spork.

can't it end?

database entry

hello please ~ from the temp job:
"1 navy blue purse, 1 cream colored sweater, 1 peach and cream colored sweater, 1 peach, navy & cream colored sweater, 1 green sweater w/ plastic flowers, 1 red sweater, 1 turquoise sweater w/ pink, peach, yellow and lavender design, 1 light pink sweater w/ gray and white stripes, 1 kevin trudeau tape and newsletters"

good thinking to be bringing the mp3 player today, I's thanks the cheebus!

jodhpurs

You ever seen someone wearing jodhpurs?
Weird, isn't it?

does anybody

remember vera wang?

i'm considering a project where i take the lyrics from the wall and reinterpret the lyrics using whatever tickles my fancy.

my guess is most of the jokes will be far too inside to realize humor, but for some.....they might get hit and take first. they'll be pitched fast! oooooh, stingey.

main event

dancing in with the brass band!










our main man, Rohan!

virtual frosty

so maybe you know i worked at an ad agency...it was good times, bad job, good people. i left that job to go back to school.
anyway, i keep in touch with a mess of em, and they got this little funness out now.

You put the head, torso and legs together and make combos. sometimes they dance. my fave (so far) is the leather snow daddy. Head is found 1 page down, on the left, in the middle; torso and legs are the same, respectively.

more pics

I'm in the middle of finals!

some photo's

India [Hiatus]

I got back from India today with the dr.

An excellent adventure, complete with stomach woes.

Tales of Orchha Foot, Western Shit Road, Jahnsi (both the new imaginary {for now} camel and the filthiest train station i have ever witnessed), Mansenor Ass, Taj Mahal [biggest mausoleum ever!], delhi belly, old delhi (a whole street dedicated to paper! or an entire street of silver merchants! or spices!), the largest mosque in the world (so i'm told), and enough forts and palaces to make solomon blush.

and for Uncle Anus these are all random ponderings, musings, and tales of my trip. hot pics to come later!

but i gotta sleep and get these pics off my disk(s). J of JnJ, I'm gonna have some good entries for your 41st year contest....and study for finals.

i almost just posted "I'll be back" but I decided to spare you. and me, really.

it's only a model

Leanna Ortiz writes:
Take just a candy and become ready for 36 hours of love

Who can pass up an offer like that?

beautimus

a few jems

this (rodent saga)

&

this (caution, don't wet yourself)

[paitently awaiting my fork delivery! insert wells fargo wagon song] ----->

daily harm

The man sat at the bar. He was not waiting for anyone, no one was waiting for him. The bartender asked him no questions, the only thing the man asked for all night was matches for his cigars, and his particular poison, cranberry and vodka.
The drink was funny to the man; he, as a younger man, repeatedly swore that he would never drink a cranberry and vodka, his reason being that if he had ever had it, he would like it too much and drink too much, causing unwanted regurgitation. That reasoning was left over from his college days when his drinking had been much heavier, not that he didn’t like to drink now, but it was a different kind of drinking. His reason being that he liked cranberry juice too much, he actually used it as a hangover relief – cold, crisp and full of vitamin C. so he figured that if he drank too much of it, the mere idea of cranberry juice might nauseate him.
But, like so many of his personal rules, he broke his promise to himself, and, like he figured, he loved it. But he had yet to drink too much of it, and the cigars were lovely. So he drank, and smoked, and drank and smoked, and thought of increasingly sillier things.
Things like the idea he had for a short story, a story of gross misunderstanding, a story about a society that fears change, and throughout the whole story the inhabitants of this civilization are all scared to let on that although this is this overwhelming fear of change, they all secretly loved change. They all secretly craved change, and the big payoff of the story was that all this hidden change bursts loose upon the streets directly after a gigantic earthquake. He hadn’t quite figured out what happened to the culture after the change pours forth into the streets, but he knew it was the downfall of that society. He wanted to work into the story: them rebuilding a society where they openly love change and now the inhabitants all despise those little paper coin rollers. A time of change, perhaps, is the title?
Of course, this story is much m ore amusing to a man who is making it up, and consuming cran n’ voddies and smoking hearty Cuban seed cigars.

chupple mcspam

and now for some brilliant spam, if only it was all like this:

hospital lonely lost affect sight. line understand story has hurry argue wished your progress three. sad appeared allow over books longer surprise, anybody sugar passed work front dinner! duty hear progress thankyou lord,
planning instead sent force at studying, fasten laid season in dead
separate development food, best fine leaving surely commit buy knows
poison middle" drink planning example allowed acquaint recommend them exactly small wont" regular secretary college height. knowledge expected whatever studying company woman giving perform interesting.
moon wanted recess grammar interest tongue. for suddenly blow than. sitting forest difficult grow, handsome nature lesson gotten! whose again now wrong sound, deep exclaimed chapter husband mentioned!
telling trust may occurrence countenance first college gone luckily work" win break yours above boys,

i love you.

chupple mcswing (part III)

Three minutes later, three men, in suits, walked into the bar. They were hit men. The man that they were looking for was sitting at the bar, in front of an empty glass. The bartender looked at the hit men entering and muscled, in a grunt, toward his only patron, “That’s it McSwing, you’re done”.
McSwing looked in the mirror behind the bar and analyzed the three poppers. Then he fell off his stool, feigning a drunken stupor, and groped around on the floor for a while, while the three men grinned at each other.
None of the three killers saw it coming. The bartender had heard about it, but that night he saw it. While on the floor, sliding his way through the spilt beer, cigar ash and empty packs of cigarettes, McSwing removed the skin from his right arm. “It wasn’t really an arm, after all!” the bartender would tell his boss, Jack, later. It was an extremely modified sawed-off ten-gauge shotgun. McSwing racked the weapon, and slammed it home.

The last thing that the biggest man heard was the dreaded “chick-chook” of the round being chambered. Then the roar. The other two took heavy damage from the initial blast. One, named Chuck, understood what was happening as soon as he saw the big man go down. Chuck reached for his piece, a trusty Desert Eagle .45, which always reminded him of his father, Java Joe. But Chuck’s attempt to reach for his weapon was interrupted by a sudden realization that Chuck’s right arm no longer existed. Chuck knew that was bad news for him, and he also knew what was next, him. He was right on the former, but slightly incorrect on the latter, if only for a moment, and during that moment before the third roar from the surprise cannon, Chuck thought of his father. He remembered seeing his father in the hospital, on his deathbed, dying of stomach cancer.

If this is a dream, i'm glad you're having it with me.

Someday, When we are all dead

Someday,

When we are all dead

We’ll think back to the thoughts

And the ant, or the mutant spaceship

Can equally experience the doubts

The significance of being naked.

Which all should know

Has been forgotten

Inside our heads.

Replaced, most effectively with toxins

Mostly shit we made to perfection.

The truth of our moments

The experience of our orgasm

How are you doin this mornin?

[{(Fuck)}]

chupple this.

Tape, Mind, Smell, Scrambled &

Of dances, and towers, and time on tape

Of catchy little numbers, so tiny you can’t see
Of insidious little creatures screaming inside of your mind.

But this is no video
This.
Your catchy jazz numbers.
Your sweet luscious sweat smell.

Why the romance of these little people
Of which it’s so scrambled.

At least there is something
I HEAR THEM MUMBLE