Mountain Kind

GOT PROBLEMS?
OLD UNUSED FURS LAYING AROUND?
SEVERAL SEVERE SITUATIONS TO SEVER YOURSELF FROM?

The best way you'll find to flay the grind is to join the mind of the mountain kind.

They live on mountains, and on sizable hills.
Their hair is unkempt, they know no contempt.
They grow hair behind their knees.
Some of them can turn into animals.

I'm leaving soon to seek them out, and join their number.

Consider: you probably won't have an opportunity like this again.

Oof

I'm surprised that I haven't posted in a while, but I've somehow been sort of busy.

Well um, upon reflection the past couple weeks don't yield obvious time consumption culprits, so maybe I spent more of that time in hazes of love, drugs, self-mutilation, and insanity than I care to admit or remember.

But whatever, I'm still working on the 'cast and the days are moving towards being cold at a good rate.

I just wanted to share this because I found it to be pretty interesting.

This is unbelievable.

My mom just told me that at the clinic where my Aunt Diane is a nurse, they are offering prizes to whichever nurse can get the most people to book another visit. The top prize is a 52 inch plasma screen television.

WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?!?!$@*%^!#@%(#$&

She said that now when the nurses get a call from someone who has a sore throat, instead of asking them how long they've had it and telling them to try something simple before they come in to see someone, now they just tell them to come in for an appointment no matter what.

This is completely morally reprehensible, next time they tell me to come in I am going to wonder why. Is it so that the nurse can win a prize?

The old battleaxe, my mom, said she might tip off the press, and if she doesn't I definitely will. This is wrong and it should be illegal.

It is really difficult to record things and then listen to your own voice.

Also, I really need to move to Asia, for like a hundred different reasons, most of which will be clear after I am dead.

ode to millie OR silly millie OR a relationship needlessly hilly: millie

So my family got a dog a little over a year ago and it is named Millie. It is a female Teddy Bear and I've never encountered a dog who was more of a bitch in the truest sense of the word.

I say that because it likes everyone in the family except me, and even past the family it is generally a jerk. I've never met a dog like it, one that lives in perpetual xenophobia and won't let anyone pet it. The way I describe it to people is as "a dog bred to sit in a rich bitch's lap."

I would like to think that is a fair description, but I might have had a hand in its disposition. When the family got it I was not pleased. I'm allergic to most animals and emotionally ambivalent to their existence unless they're being raised to feed me. So after we got it and it became established that it lived in fear of me, I actively played a demon in its life. I would chase it and try to catch it, I would take advantage of it being on a leash to force it to let me hold it, I would make noises at it and generally behave in bizarre ways toward it, and I would stare at it and show it my teeth. I didn't give it a fair go really, but now I'm trying to rehabilitate my image and our relationship.

My former fantasies focused and fixated on feeding my foe a fatal fig, but lately looking at the lady lead me to longing for love. (Also, accept an alliterative apology.)

So I've been trying to be less scary, even if the picture above was a forced pose. I think it is starting to warm up to me, it doesn't run into the other room every time I flinch anymore. Haha, once it is stupid enough to let me pet it I'm gonna catch it and eat it.

An Ethics Thought

Whenever I receive emails of the newsletter/weekly variety, I am annoyed. Not necessarily that I decided to receive these emails during some dip in my judgment, but because they are of pretty much no interest to me. One is a weekly email about business ethics entitled "An Ethics Thought."

I saw the man who writes it at an FBLA conference one year because a few of my former associates (read: we attended the same adolescent holding camp) and I attended his session on business ethics that was supposed to be for teachers. The teachers there were absolutely atrocious, they were all scared to participate and their questions regarding ethics were numbingly stupid at times. One inquired about Muslim ethics, because she was raised with Christian values and could not reconcile the prize of virgins for martyrs with business ethics. I felt so bad for the guy I signed up for his weekly ethics email, and I'm proud to say that he is still going strong three or four years later.

Anyway, I never read his ethics thoughts, but every time I get the email I wonder to myself what he might be doing, how he feels about the pursuits he has chosen, and whether or not he has ever prevented anything unethical from happening.

I guess he does sometimes, because the three tenths of a second it takes me to read the subject of his ethics thought are as often as not time I would usually spend perusing pornography.

Remember what you had. Maybe that will be enough

So I'm experiencing a downturn in my gluten-free living, in the past couple weeks I drank a Spotted Cow, ate a piece of pizza, and had some birthday cake. These transgressions didn't produce any noticeably ill effects, but what has produced an ill effect has been the reduction of my caloric intake.

It would have gone down anyway (I've already lost about 15 pounds), but I've moved from being accustomed to eating less to thinking that I never need to eat. I assumed some sort of sordid satisfaction supposing I could survive sans sufficient sustenance. This was the front I felt I had to put on, because not eating gluten brings endless lament from anyone you tell. "Oh I'm so sorry! All the BEST foods have gluten! You can't eat anything!" My response would be to shrug them off, tell them it isn't bad and that a lot of great food doesn't have gluten. Unfortunately my way of showing that was to abstain from gluten with a vengeance. The vengeance part meaning I just refused all offers of food or any suggestion to go out to eat somewhere. Anyway, that's no way to live, and it doesn't prove anything other than that now I'm sick because I never eat anything.

Ugh sometimes I feel like an infant.

gluten glutton gargle garbage

I am feeling sustained health benefits from gluten abstinence,and its effect on my attitude is curious.

As you probably all know, the person amongst you who proselytizes for their diet is an asshole. Why should they tell you what to eat? You'll eat whatever the fuck you want, it's your body, you'll go out and get an abortion right now if anyone says shit to you.

See? I'm sure you feel that way.

So I want to tell people that they should try not eating gluten, even just for a little bit, because I think it could make them feel better. This is almost impossible to do, and sometimes I feel like gluten is the only thing I ever talk about anymore. These days it's pretty much gluten, dungeons, dragons, trolls, and tunnels in that order.

p.s. I ate at PF Chang's last night, they have a whole GF menu on the back of their regular menu and it made me love Jesus a little bit more.

be not afraid of their words, nor be dismayed at their looks, though they be a rebellious house

When I am listening to a song that I find to be greatly emotionally affecting, especially when I'm in a mood predisposed to somber reflection and daytime drinking, sometimes I can feel my brain tingle and it is like sadness itself has manifested on my lobes.

The Black Keys are one of my favorite bands, even though I've only investigated Rubber Factory thoroughly and Brothers a tiniest bit. On Rubber Factory there is a song called The Lengths and it is starting to creep on my neurological pathways.

I get into strange states of mind every day or two where I feel compelled to make up songs, use funny voices, and have conversations with made-up characters out loud. This usually happens when I am very excited and I am driving a car, and the reactions I receive from people are hilarious and various.

When I start to get edgy, people just don't know how to react, and then they go into one of three states. Some are simply annoyed, because they don't find humor in my songs or they just don't understand why I'm using funny voices and saying strange things. Some people laugh and enjoy the festive atmosphere and break from normalcy, which is refreshing and usually makes me want to abandon the wheel of my car, kiss them on the mouth, then maybe jump out the window as I let the car pile into a stone wall or off a cliff or into a bus full of schoolchildren. And some people get a sense of the feeling from last sentence, and they get very scared. They don't understand what I'm talking about, what songs I'm singing, and why I'm using funny voices. I really don't help these people because their discomfort can have great comedic value, so usually when they try to get me to speak normally I will make up a name and character and talk to them in a voice as that person. I don't understand why more people don't want to be friends with Morton, a lonely spirit that I act as a conduit for now and again. He has some digestive problems and he isn't so sure about how to best put together his sentences, but the people he meets need to give him a chance.

Desires I deliberate daily

1. Apparel appropriate to my anti-urgency attitudes
2. A communication conduit of cold impersonality
3. Absolute authority of alliterative ability

I used to sleep, but then I gave it up

I have a problem with scratching myself in my sleep. Some mornings I wake up with claw marks on my back or in other places, and it can be disconcerting because I don't remember making these marks and I don't usually notice them right away.

Also, I've started feeling strange attachment to my dreams. I had never felt this before, but lately when someone wakes me up from a dream I was being fascinated by I feel irked. It is an irrational feeling, and a feeling that makes one look and feel a fool to explain. But luckily, everyone who reads this blog knows I'm a fool at heart.

The Internet

Before there was television, when people had to read books and listen to the radio, attention spans were a lot longer. The modern insistence to destroy complexity is a double-edged sword. I forgot what I was going to say about this subject

In the hall of the mountain king...

Can't get it out of my head

You would think that people would get scared when they heard things like screams or yells, things that indicate something is going very poorly somewhere close by, but I've found a much more effective way to frighten people is with laughter. Sinister laughter, or just laughter that they don't understand, either way its power is great.

Next time you are looking to disturb someone close to you, physically or otherwise, an unexplained, trickling laugh that grows into something more dark and wild can really do the trick.

On the GF front: Solid crap! I have more energy and feel healthier than ever these days.

you are what you eat. what a treat!

I stopped eating gluten because I think I have Celiac's.

I changed about a week and a half ago, but I drank some whiskey last Friday because I'm a stupid person. It has gluten in it.

I think I'm already starting to feel the effect of not eating it, but I'm not sure if I feel better or not. I might be detoxifying from my lifelong all-gluten diet, or I might be descending further into madness, but I break into sweats at odd times and I get very hot. A few years back I got acupuncture, and the woman who played with my chi said that I was very hot. She was Asian and I let her stick a lot of needles into me, so um, let's call that a diagnosis? Maybe I can finally cool off like I've always dreamed of.

I hope I have a dream tonight where I puke up rocks. Not pebbles and not boulders, but rocks that are just slightly too big to have actually come out of my throat. I want to keep them, but hopefully they evaporate like dreams always do