“If you’re going to try, go all the way. Otherwise, don’t even start. This could mean losing girlfriends, wives, relatives and maybe even your mind. It could mean not eating for three or four days. It could mean freezing on a park bench. It could mean jail. It could mean derision. It could mean mockery – isolation. Isolation is the gift. All the others are a test of your endurance, of how much you really want to do it. And, you’ll do it, despite rejection and the worst odds. And it will be better than anything else you can imagine. If you’re going to try, go all the way. There is no other feeling like that. You will be alone with the gods, and the nights will flame with fire. You will ride life straight to perfect laughter. It’s the only good fight there is.”
~ Charles Bukowski, Factotum
She: But you keep a sword in your bedroom.
Me: You say that like it’s a weird thing.
She: It is a weird thing!
Me: What’s weird about it? Where do you keep your sword?
She: …. [drinks deeply of Jameson’s Irish Whisky]
Me: The cleaver in the kitchen doesn’t seem to bother you much.
She: We’re not talking about your kitchen.
Me: Perhaps we should. Perhaps you’d be more comfortable there.
She: Maybe. Less swords.
Me: Fewer swords. There are fewer swords in my kitchen than in my bedroom, but vastly more cleavers.
She: There will be fewer women in your bedroom, but more proper grammar.
Me: It’s actually more of a usage issue than a grammatical one. If we’re being technical.
She: Has anyone ever just lit you on fire? Just like here, now, in front of a herd of witnesses, just doused you with Jamie’s and set light to you?
Me: Nobody’s ever cared enough. Until now.
N.P.: “Mladek” – Russian Circles
“Sticking feathers up your butt does not make you a chicken.” ~ Tyler Durden
“He sees no reason for doing anything in particular and finds most of the causes for which, at ordinary times, he was prepared to act and suffer, profoundly uninteresting. He can’t be bothered with them, for the good reason that he has better things to think about.”
~ Aldous Huxley
N.P.: “Paper Romance” – Groove Armada
“May you live in interesting times” is perhaps the most ancient of Chinese curses. I think the times we live in can certainly be described as “interesting” in the Chinese sense, though I think this for likely very different reasons than you might suspect.
I’ll get into all that soon enough, but not today. Today is Wednesday, after all, and it has always proven to be bad business to discuss anything controversial on Wednesdays. So it will have to wait. Besides, right now I have to go stalk an opossum that has been rather arrogantly rummaging through my trashcan for the last few weeks. He is not foraging for food as much as he seems to be critiquing the contents of my garbage, and that is simply not acceptable. I have to listen to a lot of nonsense in my life, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to take any shit off of some low-rent marsupial with poor orthodontia.
N.P.: “Rainbow Man 2.0” – Busy P
N.P.: “Kuss” – Eisbrecher
Word of the Day:
adjective: sapiosexual; adjective: sapio-sexual
(of a person) finding intelligence sexually attractive or arousing.
noun: sapiosexual; plural noun: sapiosexuals; noun: sapio-sexual; plural noun: sapio-sexuals
a person who finds intelligence sexually attractive or arousing.
The ad was pretty straightforward, as far as these things went: “Attractive and sapiosexual editorial assistant needed immediately. Must enjoy late-night hot-tubbing, imbibing powerful toxins in the name of passionate experimentation, and last-minute deadlines. Loose morals and knowledge of hardcore porn a plus.”
Licking her grinning lips, she began typing a letter of extreme interest.
N.P: “Evil Ways” – Blues Saraceno
Number of times thus far in January that I have angrily but accurately addressed the incompetent driver in front of me on the freeway as “you minivan motherfucker” whilst threatening and detailing painful kickings of ass unless their driving improved posthaste: 7. Number of those with handicap plates: 4. Number from Oregon: 3.
N.P.: “99 Problems” – Hugo
Your Word of the Day is “botryoidal.”
(chiefly of minerals) having a shape reminiscent of a cluster of grapes.
The urologist thought he’d seen it all until that fateful Thursday when he found himself unable to describe the shape of the set of odious and detestable testicles in his nitrile-gloved hands as botryoidal.
“Never saw anything like this in med school,” muttered the doctor darkly to himself.
“You got all the way through med school without seeing a set of testicles?” said the patient, whose actual name the doctor knew, but who had become known in the doctor’s mind in the last 30 seconds as Grape Nuts.
“Shut up, Grape Nuts,” said the doctor, who, upon saying it, regretted having said it aloud, as that was not his intention.
N.P.: “I’m Only Joking” – KONGOS