Ketchup again?

yes, ketchup. Again.

so you’re not really dead then.  no.  *sighs* oh well.

Then you have no excuse for not being.

Which of my “conspiracy” uhh “theories” are the crazy ones again?  The ones that the people on the “left” believe or the ones that the people on the “right” believe or the ones the “anarchists” believe or the ones the “scientists” believe or the one the “girls” believe or the one the “boys” believe or the ones the slowly but wise believe or the ones the quick-witted types believe?  I know.  You quit listening before I said “right,” huh.  Blocked.  But, you know, the real-life kind.  I was thinking about this earlier.  I give people maybe 3 seconds.  If they offend, insult, “joke” block.  You’re saying the words.  You’re using the intonation, projecting the energy.  “Fuck off.”

Pyramids can clean water.  Like, lake/ocean scale.  Modular concrete forms, perhaps?  I always think of large scale construction projects that can be broken down to pieces transportable by human power only.  I dunno, backpacks, bike trucks.  The kinetic bus disassembled to backpacks.  I’ve told you about the kinetic bus.  Fast, that fucker.  With the right participators, anyway.  Participatory ability is participation.  Give the job that needs doing to the person or people who can do it.  They know how to incorporate it into their lives, the surrounding community (because they are that).  Before I would advocate “nationalization” of all holdings, properties, and assets of profit-driven entities within the jurisdiction over which you have control (this is why nationalization is in quotes.  Take it over for your county.  All seized assets immediately go into a tiered land trust agreement.  Depending on their current level of “development,” whether that be by zoning, aesthetics, eco-impact/sustainability, or need.  Any destruction of buildings over a certain age requires consent of the participators.  Construction shall be zero-waste, zero-input, overunity driven generators everywhere.  These are charging stations, public energy transport net.  Off the grid electric generation.  Decentralized freedom.  Movement shall be a condition of capability and desire, not caste.

Dude gets a hardon from cold showers.  No, he seriously gave the whole house a lecture on it over dinner, on multiple occasions.  Fuckin’ douche.  I hate that guy.  I don’t hate myself, I choose not to adopt the characteristics of that incorrigible asshole, past me.

Cheating.  Time warp cheating.  I forget the term for that, but in essence, you verbally frame a future nostalgia event with the present moment as the click.  Fine, try to fuck me over, just because you can.  Future you will kick your ass about it over and over, and I forgave you shortly after it happened.  I just never resumed communication.  I just don’t.  What am I gonna say?  I love the now you now.  Did then too.  Yuh huh.

I dropped the short octagonal pyramid which broke the top off.  Heh.  Father has suggested consulting a CAD wiz to find dimensionalities, angulars, etc.  He may be on to something, or he just taught me how I’ll do the next one.  The next thousand.  No problem.  Meditation arts.  Tactile polymorphs.  Crystal-woods?  Tactile polyhedron.

I get reiki in 45 minutes.

It takes practice.  Everyone should know how to do it in case of an emergency, or in case there’s a time when it needs doin’ and you’re the only one around to do it.  Here, here’s how:

Making bread (I have no idea what the correct way is, but this is how I do it) in a bread maker:

Know the machine.  Read the instructions.  Follow the recipe.  As far as the order of room temperature ingredients, water first (13.5 oz), butter (2.5 T, ~1.5” of stick, cut thin if cold), salt (1.5 t), oatmeal (2/3 c), and honey (2 T). Then 2 cups each of organic bread and whole wheat flours.  Fresh organic flour works best; sift it properly for best performance.  Yes, it matters, even in the machine.  This is a balanced chemical process going on.  So, the flour should mound up over the water, and my machine booklet says you can make a divot in the dry flour on top to put the 1.5 teaspoons of yeast into.  Put the container gently back into the machine, find a place where the noise won’t bother people (or where you want it to smell like bread when the cycle completes), plug it in, set the cycle, and enjoy the show.  Depending on the weather, my inaccurate measuring, or unknown variables, occasionally dry flour remains at the bottom of the mixing bowl.  I add very small quantities of water and let it mix well until it gets to doughy.  Then, I knock the excess off the sides of the bowl with a spatula and let it go.  Bread.

Oh Sunday, why can’t I spend you with the girls?

Re-energizing.  Tweeties later, prolly.


post-script:  it’s 4:53 PM, and we fooded, zapped, and enhanced.  Tea time is nearly ended.  Y’all know what that means!  Vodka or beer time!  I ain’t decided which clean “poison” of the evening shall shock us back to happyville.  Pleasantville?  More like orgasmatomicbliss junction.  Cum Point?  No, that’s topographical, not architectural. Well, that too.  Heh.

Fuck City.

Fuck Cunt Way.  That’s the main street of fuck city.  What, were you like born there or something?  Cosmic bliss, sweety cakes.  Design your own.

There’s not enough intention of freakishness in my hair.  I thought you were growing it out “for a part.”  Nobody will contribute a dime to more pixels/bandwidth of your filth.  Have fun in that other cage, dude.  I like your face.

Hemp yoga mats?  I don’t see why not.  We’ll put the kindergarteners on it.  They always win the design competition anyway.

The ability to exert force, accelerate, or propel can be jarring and destructive without the accompanying anti.  On a dime.  Holy fuck that die grinder can rip shit up.  I have designs for adjustable angled platforms that attach via the four screws that attach the handle assembly to the motor.  Single speed: crazy fast.  You best hang on to your gyroscope when it cuttin’ through cellulose like a dremel on mr hyde juice.  Rawr!

Oh, I’m totally in love with my power tools.  They put more energy wavicles into me than many a y’all.  Same with my bike, same with my computer.  Same with my tv back when I watched/had/loved one of them.  So fucking what.  What kind of a messy, whimpering shell of a person would you be if the only people you got to communicate with were the other materialism-enslaved argue-judgers of present day “America.”  So, you fall in love with machines that will turn on and off at your will.  What of the human who knows that’s what “he”’s “competing against” the entire time.  Meat. Bot.

No, we’re far more advanced than any computer.  Brute force don’t account for everything.  Finesse, like the man said.  Human survival.  Google’s already tracking all my tweets anyway?  Where’s a good dark-screened reading client that won’t bog up my computer with fades and fucking slides.  Who writes these shitty fucking GUIs?

I should tell you about my trip earlier.  Reiki session.  I got suggested growing crystals into pyramids.  Research: how to grow crystals. Also, cement types.  Polymers, epoxies, stabilizers, hardeners, colorants, polishing, aeration, freeze/crack-resistance, reinforcement structures, Fresnel lenses

The biggest pyramid will be mostly underground.  A circular grove and plans for living architecture will be implemented on regular schedules.

Suspended mesh of cables, smaller mesh over that, wood chips, soil.  It’s a sky-field, sir.  It shades the parking lot.  The walk/bike/bus/share de/livery structure means most of that parking lot gonna be PermieGrove soon anyway.  We have greenhouses all over.  That’s the beauty of it.

Ok, these discussions of “Islamic law” as if it’s some written-in-stone thing like “biblical law” are getting a little ridiculous.  The same controversial issues, attitudes, discussions, and even arguments are used to debate the “legitimacy” of any authority and how that “authority” is to be applied in individual cases.  Just because you’re wearing the magic cloak or hat, or have that little title behind your name at this moment don’t mean you speak for all of anything, anybody, or that you’ll even be the one in charge of that thing after a while.  Why does said organization exist, and if not for me/us/all, why should I let it?  We just set up regular fights for the competitive types, and they’ll wear themselves out doing that instead of running the planet the way theyawwt.  Ought.  Once a self determines itself to be public servant, those hours for which it will vouch shall be supervised by the state itself.  The very living electorate.  5:55 PM.

Of course that was a monty python reference.  He wouldn’t have taken the time to carve aaahhhh.  Well that’s what it says on the rock.  Help.

I think I’m gonna start some beans soaking tonight.  It might turn out like a decent batch if I actually take the time to do it like I know how.  All of it works/tastes better.  What other reason is there to do anything?

So, I’m intrigued by the idea of an electrified wire pyramid over cold-weather trees.  Solar activated, I’m thinking.  When am I not thinking that.

She interrupted my sit-down with the Buddha.  The faces were all dark and obscured.  She has much fear.  She’s a conductor, when she gets out of her own way.  Sheer conductivity brought me to giggles at least twice.  Twenty-four namable states beyond bliss, they say?  It’s like snow for north-dwellers.  Many words for discernables.  Be specific.  Which do you mean.  The beautiful thing about globalization is the intertribalization, co-habitation, not to mention the sharing of food and orgasms.  God bless the orgasms.

If this ain’t thin lizzy, it wants to be.  What, why can I not refer to a band as it?  Whatever, I just did.  Your ex-post-facto statement of my inability negates your very premise.  Stop babbling away, time-waster.  I should block you for that alone.  I see you there, with that ugly distorted avi.  I know you’re beautiful when you wanna be, asshole.  Project your ugly on me and I don’t wanna hear it.  That’s just how I roll.  They’re internal fluctuations of muscular, skeletal, nerve, blood, and chi.  Pure. Fucking. Sex.

I don’t know if it’s been three or four days (you, photographic-memory’d reader, probably do), or more that Pepper’s barks have woken me up.  I tend to wake up around noon.  Last few days it’s been closer to 10 am, but I’m sure that’s just a phase.  Where can I find more of these dried figs.  Holyf cuk balls them’s yummers.  Like fig newtons without the “cake.”  Blech.

They just quick transitioned from an REM song to:

“And when I wake up in the morning

To feel the daybreak on my face

There’s a blood that’s flowing through the feeling

With a knife to open up the sky’s veins

Some things will never change

They just stand there looking backwards

Half-unconscious from the pain

They may seem rearranged

In the backwater swirling

There is something that’ll never change”
– Meat Puppets “Backwater.

Research begins.  What the fuck else do I do?  And why, for god’s sake.

Guitar solo!

I heard this song years ago, but it was the only meat puppets song I liked.  I have given them a second chance since, but have not heard much.  I’m open to introductions, anyway.  My friends are mostly musical recordings, or musical events as I remember them.  That kid that suggested two CD’s that I bought in high school?  Yeah, I found him on FB and Twitter.  He’s one of my source DJs.  You can’t replace those.

“Strap on your gee-tar! […] Who needs action when you got words.”

Rocking back and forth in his cardigan.  Back and forth on a swivel chair.

If the “MTV” served any purpose at all, it’s to have recorded performances like this.

’til nextymz…


~ by LazyAssWasteoid on 2011-03-27 (Sunday).

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