I Never Had a Spyrograph

From my first self-actualizing moment I've always wondered what I would see if I was able to crack open my skull and peer into my thoughts.

What does the visual interpretation of a chaos of synapses firing through sense memory look like? A Spyrograph design? If I was able to broadcast my thoughts onto a large motion picture screen I would be able to decipher the odd splits, poor plot lines, sad character arcs, and the lunacy of my own creation. I would be able to direct myself, slap myself, and push myself through various roadblocks and obstacles that my Ego throws up in front of me without so much as a flinch. Lessons would be learned in moments rather than months.

Until Steve Jobs invents the iConsciousness, with WiFi, I'm stuck growing and learning the old fashioned way. Loving. Living. Experiencing. Standing up.

YKK Be Damned

I've become accustomed to wearing button fly pants.

So much so that now when I wear lo-fi zipper pants I immediately begin undoing my belt and the fly as if it were button flyed. Once I get to, and undo the zipper, I remember and generally mutter 'Fuck' as my pants fall to the ground.

Proud moments.

She Was Drinking an Arnold Palmer.

Exhaustion be damned; I need to post a blog.

After such a long recess I'm not sure where to even begin..."the Man" changing the name of Global Warming to a much more non-threatening Global Climate Change...the influx of gadgetry that will undoubtedly modify the globe...Perfect Tits Jess...my silent reverie...two $85 Dual Link DVI cables...collapsing under the weight of my own genius...inadvertent use of the word 'hot,' and having it be misconstrued...existentiality...the list of topics is practically endless since the last time I posted anything real.

So many things to talk about I can't bring myself to pick just one.

Boy Wonder

Earning my keep.