office hours with wasteoid
We cool, point. Don’t worry. You’re beautiful. I went for a rather leisurely bike ride today. Stevens Point is a much nicer town on bike and on foot than it is in a car. I really hate my car. Maybe I’ll just sell that. I could survive for a good year on that. Daily bread and whatnot.
I only need a small place to sleep. A place to keep my bikes, music, computers. I want to help with labor tasks, but I don’t want to annoy you or get in your way. I observe a lot.
I rode by a warehouse I want today. Please buy it for me, give it to me, or help me attain title. I’ll put it to good use, promise. Parties, kids. Fer everybody. Yeah.
I also rode past a bunch of beautiful people. I really like this town, and I hope y’all want to work with me. I need help, but I can work with whatever you can give me. An hour a week? Stop by and say hello. If you have the funds, I cost $0/5/10/100/1000/hr. I’ll often recommend second opinions if you’re not feelin’ the direction I’m headed, and I’m fine with that. Let’s get you what you really want, k? Then, the rest will fall into place. I’m quite aware of what I want, day to day and minute-by-minute. I can do a lot more than that, but I’m not interested in tricking anybody into giving me more of your money than I earn. And, I prefer to “earn” with my labor. I know how this here computer box works pretty well, and learning about that should probably be one of the first places to start. I can record video, audio, and have a multitude of ideas for transmitting text for free, too. Yeah, freelance workhorse, $10/hr.
I already have ideas about the ad campaign, yeah. Radio, yes. Internet, yes. Face-to-face transport, sharing, and larger, scheduled, planned meals. You got seven houses on your block? One cooks and hosts dinner every week. Or, you refinance to buy up that empty big house at the end of the block and turn it into the communal kitchen. Plus, the gardening/childcare/entertainment staff can live there. You can cram a lot of dirty hippies into relatively small spaces. We are fare more efficient in our space and resource usage than y’all. Yes, we can teach you how to do that. You just have to be patient, genuinely kind, and realize that we are the same person. I’m doing this for you and me, and if you’re not, I won’t work with you. We have to contribute to the new design for how-it-works, so that we know what we want, and we don’t have to spend time complaining and creating other drama after the foundations have been set. Standing up to scream about following existing laws will not be tolerated. We are all interested in peaceful co-existence with existing municipalities and fascist land monopolies. Fine, if we’re less than savory characters, (nay, human waste!) give us the scraps. That old warehouse by the railroad tracks? That school out on the edge of town that nobody knows what to do with… you know, the one you have to run mowers over and over just to keep the fussy, bored, drugged-outta-their-skulls old ladies from whining about curb appeal, in a place where the only way a developer will ever want the land is if we make it attractive TO ACTUAL HUMAN BEINGS, which they clearly have no clue how to do.
Ample parking day or night, people shouting HOWDY, NEIGHBOR!
You’re gonna have to find me a neighborhood or building to have noise shows in, I mean other than the radio station, heh heh heh. I should get my scrawny ass on the radio station, shouldn’t I. Oh, and uhh, ladies? I’m crashing on a couch for the next week. Bed sharing is greatly appreciated. Yes, I wanna touch you. Then don’t offer. I’m still right here.
Farmy farmys! I miss you guys. I really do.
I just realized I said something really mean to a kid who just set up across from me. I was out, drunk, disappointed. I’ve spent most of my life single. I’m pretty used to disappointment.
No, it’s fine if you wanna share. I’m not gonna be a part of some silly power-tripping, competition, or drama. I only want to be around you if you want to be around me. I’m looking for a crew looking for the same thing. No, there aren’t many open slots for dudes. You just have nothing I want. Show me a business proposal or introduce me to your friends. Don’t act like you don’t know what I like. Don’t hesitate to ask, either.
Still no camper volunteers, huh? Not even for a trailer or box truck I could convert to a living space? Yeah, but it’ll look hella cool. What? Your company logo on it? Depends. Do you provide survival services? Do you guarantee a living wage to every person involved with your business and suppliers? Do you go out of your way to ensure “scraps,” leftovers, and byproducts are put to their best possible use? Do you offer low-to-trade-for-labor housing on your land? Does working for your organization immediately build equity in the shared property of the group? Seriously? And you’ll make me dinner and help watch my kids play with yours? No, just once a week. Yeah, I’ll bring your lunch to work for ya, or I’ll cook it right in the company kitchen. Yeah, while you’re doing your “job.” You can laugh about this food all you want, but if you listen to me and eat what I feed you, we’ll make you skinny. Not just like shed some pounds, like traffic-stopping hot. What do you want, sweetheart? What do you need?
I need a girlfriend, or ten. Or three. You don’t all have to touch me all the time, but that helps. If you like hanging out with me but don’t want me to talk, be honest. I can accommodate friends, and friendly advice. Treat me like a slave, or an employee, or a manager, and that’s when you’ll have to start paying me like we’re in a business arrangement. That’s not what we’re here to do, kids. Don’t make unkie tie-doh get a job! He gets cranky and fat. And, he dosen’t focus on the task at hand, ‘cuz he’s scrounging for rent and food and medicine. And people. It don’t need ‘em 24×7, but it need/wants em. It’s realized this, in multiple times and multiple ways. I’m trying to be honest here about what I’m looking for in case there’s someone out there who might want something similar. Maybe you don’t think about life in those terms. Maybe you just had a good day at work and want to tell someone about it across the dinner table. Sure, you can “hire” me as an “escort” if you want to call it that. Or, hire me for computer repair lessons, handy-man-fix-it services, web consulting, data entry, firewood, whatever.
Again, straight-up investment is also a possibility. Oh, you ain’t workin’ with me ‘til I get a suit and a haircut? Specify that your donation go to the “body beautification fund.” Yeah, you can specify clothing and/or accessories if you want. If I’m strapped, it’s going for survival. I’m not going to store up 50 $5 donations for lasik surgery if I can’t afford to eat. And, right now, I can’t afford to eat.
So, I was readin’ what mikey wrotes earlier today, about artists’ input to entertainment markets, whether “traditional” or digitally distributed. The big corporations have been ripping off content providers since the beginning. Artists, the true artistic visionaries, get shit. That life-changing band that spawned 80 similar-sounding bands didn’t have the hip, shy, pushover front man who got propelled to stardom by the machine. Their “material” in essence just got ripped off by the ones who did. Fuck your “success story,” rich band. You’re good at marketing, but why the fuck do we give so large a percentage to those involved in marketing? You announce the existence of the thing that people want to watch? That’s it? What is it, ya’d say, ya do here? People skills, eh? Sounds more to me like you’re a censor for the war economy, driven by a pathetically crippling case of terrified laziness. Your shiny cd case is devoid of substantive music, and the semi-substantive shit you also like is a ripped-off mash up of influences, memories, and boring notions of “this is just how it’s done.” Poop.
I’m not a very good musician, at all. I’m amazed by even decent guitar players, but beautiful lead singers don’t do it for me if they sing off key, or if they don’t know that they would rather die immediately than say what’s needin’ ta be said. You know I dance to pretty-sounding fluff. I know it pisses you off, ‘cuz I can read your mind. You have dirty thoughts, sweetie. Hang out with me more.
Yes. Fucking is free. Biking is free. Coffee would be free if I could get off my ass and dance for change. 90 fm, huh. Yeah, I gotta find a radio, and now we’re starting a local singles service. Honest love.
Please fill out the following survey. Others will not be notified of you existence or intentions unless they match your criteria. You may be required to make an anonymous appearance in a public place in order that potential matches may observe your actions, demeanor, or ass. No, we don’t accept lying here. Nor do we judge for odd requests. Yeah we got people who will let you just touch their feet. Or maybe they’ll make you a personal video. Don’t pretend you don’t like porn. Porn is a completely natural phenomenon, and a legitimate means of survival. The physical act of love and the other means of contact with humans shouldn’t be buried. Those are the things that allow you to block action or evolution in other areas of your life. Admit this thing over here, and a lot of other analogous things reveal themselves. If you have a support net, we can fix ‘em all at once. Strength through instability. Juggernaut numbers of people looking for company, doing insane amounts of work without realizing it or minding. I’m here to hang out with you, holmes. The fact that we’re both wielding shovels to build a garden at the foot of this warehouse watering station is just a lucky coincidence. Luck does this, kiddo. Luck, providence, prayer, gifts, and unabashed love. Unlimited generosity.
I can help you make a custom bike, too. Yep, out of scraps. Yeah, same deal on the hourly, scrap at cost, your cash for new parts, etc. Yep, we do clothes, too. You’re probably gonna need new clothes, or to take in those old clothes if you spend any time with us. That armor you’re wearing isn’t a part of you. It’s residual poison that has collected. It’s unnecessary stores of not-that-healthy “sustenance” which is literally killing you, and not slowly either. Clean food will fix your health problems. You don’t know because you’ve never tried. Again, I cite myself as an example. Yeah, you’ll probably be as lonely as me if you get as skinny as me, too. Yep, the family might stop talking to you unless you bring them in on the deal/conversation. I dunno. I just want to help as many people as want my help. I’m firing the remains of my “knowledge” in the hopes that something will spark in you. I told you I’m a generator. A catalyst. You want to see me activated? Happy? I want to see you activated and happy, too.
Yes, I know I skipped a day. I skipped lots of days. It’s been a while since I really danced. Yeah, like a full-on Elaine dance. Do you ever dance in front of hundreds or thousands of people who don’t know who you are? That’s my art, and because I trusted y’all enough to release it into the wild, you stole it.
You, machine and its customers. You pretend that the machine that now collects and “releases” our art was the thing that created it. That machine didn’t only not create it in the first place, but it ripped off the workers at every step. Seriously, bling? Your dangling those two chains in my face that “prolly match [my] deal” would have purchased enough property to feed me and my family for the foreseeable future. I could feed myself and a few friends on what you spend for TV in a year. I could generate income from your blighted property, and provide a workforce that will blow your mind. No, you can’t “fire” any one of us, decide how we spend our time, or schedule without our consent. But, we’ll provide the tools for an agile infrastructure improvement plan. Just stay out of our way. Look, you greedy assholes have been running shit forever now. You’re doing a shitty fucking job, lying constantly, and grossifying the very idea of human beings. Get a divorce from the Hutt family!
Omfg, the economies that are running now are self-defeating, all of ‘em. You’re still killing your father, Larry!
NBC Universal (Why don’t they just call it GE?), News Corp, and Disney (Viacom) are all in on HULU (not to mention the “private equity firm” called “Providence”)? Duh. The machine has been a coordinated effort since forever. They just can’t lie about it any more. Too much information out there. Fuck every single second of your broadcast TV schedule. Contrived, distracting, manipulative shit! It makes you all fat retarded assholes! Yeah, you’re a fucking fat retarded asshole, America. Let the world see you dance! Fuck the celebrities, and their “privacy.” Share your land, you rich fucking bastards. Either you let us in or we’ll take the door right off the hinges. We’ll disassemble your “courthouse” in the middle of the night and turn it into raised garden beds. Then what? Retards. That’s stone cold Jersey, baby! Stone cold! God, I’m an ass. It’s really no wonder I never get to have a girlfriend.
Oh, for fuck’s sake. The reason younger generations have “problems with authority” is that the methods and people in positions of authority are condescending, disrespectful, and COMPLETELY UN-FUCKING WILLING TO CHANGE AT ANY MEANINGFUL LEVEL. Watch how you wander in circles without any real thought about why or how what you’re doing interacts with the whole. Watch. All your words do is solidify the old shit.
Yeah, invite me to dance at your house. Feed me. Or, invite me to dance at your business. Let me ask for tips. I don’t know your customers, and it’s your business. If you want me there, you’re going to have to make it worth my time. I know my presence boosts business. I see it. If you don’t see it, I’ll go somewhere else. Somewhere free.
Maybe I should make some food.
Maybe I should actually post today’s mind-dump.
Maybe you should tell me what you want, what you like, and what you need.
Maybe you should forego words and just touch me already. I speak pressure.
I’m madly in love with you already. Sorry.