:: Porkchop Serum ::

:: Friday, April 18, 2003 ::

Note to self: Start a two person band call "Fecal" One member is called "Bloody Stool" and the other "Rectal Mass"

:: sandy 1:44 PM [+] ::
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I learned last night that the feared Shotslinger is back in town. On the way to the flesh reclaimation plant, I saw the tell-tale marking: A Calliope of mutant human stomachs. There it was, spinning joyously above the local Gendarme paddock, playing the most melodious tune yet reeking of violent expiration. A little gang of blind children, victims of the horrible Oculus Humor terrorists, had gathered beneath it, dancing and giggling. They looked so content I didnt want to disturb them. Can't figure out how they failed to notice the periodic shower of digestive acid...

My sadistic glee was ruined when a frazzled, bulbous magister wobbled forth from an adjacent arched doorway. "Get in the shootbooth!", he bellowed at the hysterical children

:: sandy 9:01 AM [+] ::
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One of those things not to be discussed... I should have thrown you off Rees' deck just for fun. I'm sure the Raw van would have broken your fall.. INSOLENT PIG!! I mean, yeah, sorry.

i think the easiest way to capture the fleeting dreams would be to recount them verbally, into your tape recorder or something similar. Maybe I should call myself and leave a message when I wake up with a particularly noteworthy brain-tenent. I too have been missing the dreams, scampering away with the first sign of stirring. I KNOW they're there.

I like lice. Flied lice. No, you racist bastard. You read it right! I spend many hours a day training flies to attack and consume lice, bloating their little segmented bodies almost to the bursting point. Tastes like Pop Rocks.

What are your plans while you're back in town this time? Family junks, it being Easter and all.

Hey have you ever considered that when you eventually come back to town, going back to school and getting something like one of your current jobs to supplement yourself? Lots of good schools around here. Like Nutsack Academy or Braincheese Preparatory School. I hear Monsignor Analbraid sent his all of his offspring to good ole' Braincheese. And look how they turned out!!!

:: sandy 8:34 AM [+] ::
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- Im working on trying to archive all the posts. I hadn't set it up when i created PS but you can still access them all. Just go to that edit your blog screen, and select, "show last 100 post" and voila -

I meant to say, "let the WORLD gaze in".. but word has some of the freaky symbolic metafizzile jelly on it.

I need to start dumping the dreams right to blog. Maybe I'll make a habit of keeping the proper screen at the ready all the time, just in case I awake with some universe-thought.

I AM THE WORLDS CAMCORDER (IATWC)!!!!

:: sandy 8:14 AM [+] ::
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You've all missed the POINT!! No one wants read what you Grandma said today or who's house you threw up at this weekend. This is a chance to crack open your brain and let the word gaze in. Let them poke and squeeze and rearrange. Shine at with lights and pelt with stones.

Mizzy: a new task for us. Dream documentation, expansion and development. Lets go deep and find that hidden aquifer that flows between all of us.

:: sandy 9:54 PM [+] ::
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Songs of note. Songs that are for the most part instrumental, electronica, etc, etc. A more primal instinctual connection:

"Bakerloo" King of Woolworths
"Signing Off" Antiloop

...more to come

:: sandy 9:47 PM [+] ::
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audblog audio post

:: sandy 3:04 AM [+] ::
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I hope that everything that was stolen or looted from the Baghdad museum is cursed. What are those idiots thinking? Do they believe they're going to be able to sell the stuff? Good lord. Some of the scenes of cracked pottery and toppled statues are truly sickening. Some of the items stored within the museum are close to SEVEN THOUSAND years old. Maybe they'd like a big fat nuke right in the middle of town. I mean, this is not only their heritage and the past of the Iraqi people but of the whole of the world. Stop fuckin round with the GD fertile crescent! ASSHOLES!

:: sandy 2:22 AM [+] ::
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It's later than a muh-fuck!! (my Cholesterol is good: 166) Stick it in your buzy wicket and lick five times the cricket ticket!!!

:: sandy 2:15 AM [+] ::
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Exposure

Matt and Sandy before the world....

:: sandy 12:47 AM [+] ::
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Do you know the time when dreams and existance intersect? Where the mind and the brain sit in the same room? I do and I have for the longest time. First, a location where your eyes see no boundary, no wall or break to interrupt the view. A beach. Cold, dark. (Wind and surf or birds and herds?) Endless space, stretched out into infinity. This lets your mind spill out like a beached jellyfish, rising and breathing poems and feelings into the abyss. Not yet. Its the stretch of time, roughly 30 minutes in length, when the sun is attempting to pull itself up and over the horizon and all the sticks and seagulls and crabs and grasses and piers and docks and cars and hair and legs and friends and enemys and humans and animals and dreams and realities are blue... all blue. Monochromatic. Not an absense of color.. but a universe of one. blue. This is where magic and sorcery and telepathy and communication exist. This is a window into heaven and hell. Into tomorrow and yesterday. into life and death and yourself.

:: sandy 12:40 AM [+] ::
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Some fucked up hellbeast is reading our posts.. did you read that shit?

keep seeing myself in this odd pariah light
This is your imagination. The truth is that I've been trying to call you for hours. No one can reach you when you dont answer our calls. Its that simple. So are you without friends or are your friends without you?

SEE, I know I'm comin home kinda to do that, a new chance, do better, accomplish "great things,"----
At some point you have to realise, Matt, that unless you have legs that are 20 miles long, your pace will be slow and methodical. Day to day, one foot in front of the other. See, you've taken the same amount of steps over the past 6 months that I have or Sean or Adam or Dave, the only difference being is that you're on the north pole, trying to follow a compass. The needle spinning wildly and you've been marching around and around in circles. You have to find a path. Whether or not that path has been warn down by the thousands who's traveled it in the past or is completely fresh and untouched, you have to march down one. Either you've got to push yourself or someone else has to pull you down. The alternative? a lifetime in a traffic circle until the car runs out of gas and you coast into a ditch.

no, I just drove, from two in the afternoon to ten at night
Thats fucked up. Thats fucked up to your friends and its fucked up in general. its STUPID and idiotic. Who does that? its moronic. Is this really who you are? Do you really and truly lack the wherewithall to keep yourself from wandering aimlessly? Why didnt you go out? are you afraid that you might have a good time? What is at the pit of this rotten fruit called Matt? And yeah, something is rotten inside of you. Have things that have transpired between you and C had more of an effect on you that you'd like to admit? Its time for some self-analysis, my friend. Lord knows that you have a gift with words, especially to reproduce your emotions and feelings on paper. You need to sit and THINK.. face yourself in the mirror. What is holding you down? What is weighing on your soul, Matt. You NEED to find this.

:: sandy 12:27 AM [+] ::
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