horse fer higher

horse fer higher

i threw some bundles of shingles up on the roof today.

fuck off, i’m sewing.

proper ass patches for work pants are lined with silk and have material from an old suitcase on the outside.  jeans.  the super industrials are not there yet.  fair enough.  prototypes are in the works.

list of shit today that i said, heard, or thought, irl:

  • the polite man goes home hungry
  • what part of free don’t you understand?
  • i’m a good negotiator
  • “would you mind holding the noise down?” “yeah, alright.”
  • impeders recognize other capables.  haters hate.
    • if you ever say/think: “i hate how/when/people-who/doing x…”, you are a hater.  stop saying it, then stop thinking it.
  • find the part of the now to be happy about.  there is one.  go that direction.  constant choice.
  • i’m improvising [grinder] making something out of nothing
  • can i have a hug? no. you haven’t showered today. yes i have! [lie]
  • i’m just wearing smelly, filthy outerwear.
  • fuckin’ homeless drunks are the worst. *giggles*
  • we have tape deck/collection.  go.
  • gimmie da loot

i can’t stay in your domain all the time and be productive in all the ways i need to be.  it has to be our domain.  all of ours.  we have to bring every participant in on the plans, and fully functional designs, we must respect all of their wishes.  budgets shall be determined through full disclosure and common management.  we use our collective time and effort that most quickly gets all of us towards what we want.  you have to know what that is.

i have tried, multiple times, to have a rational, reasonable conversation with you.  you shut me down at every opportunity.  i don’t have to put up with any of that.  ever.  get your fucking head screwed on straight, and let’s talk about how we can all get more than we ever knew we wanted.  health.  that’s the direction i go.  dollars are an illogical and unfair means of hoarding and enslavement.  they are to be used only to get out from under their thumb.  meaning, debts are to be paid down as highest priority.  internal self-sufficiency and organic expansion/absorbsion of the suprafunctional/superfunctional/bored.  the needy are to be eaten.  “i need, i need, i need.” hack.

i had to make a second trip to my mom’s to pick up more stuff from storage.  i left her a note.  i was feeling kind, having been treated kindly.  there are still huge issues which she intentionally ignores when looking at me.  i will sear them into here retinas via e-mail within the next few weeks.  a strategery is being formulated.

the stuff i needed, and drove an extra 30 miles to get, were my fabric scraps.  i’m in the middle of sewing up pants.  i’m not moving on it enough, so i’m going to do that now.  best of luck to you in your endeavors.  Namaste (5:31 pm)

holy mc-fuckklesticks, batsmayn.  ed.

kpm.  killer pleasure maker.  what do you want it to stand for?  i recorded a video jes naw. 7:52 pmz.  ed, by king missile.  avec tapen lite.  uh. huh.

whenever the part of the brain that says you shouldn’t share something because keeping it to yourself will make you more money, dictator blurts.  so as he’s about to:

the glistening pearl of an r.v. pulled up to the group, and settled in.  leveling/stabilizing arms dropped from hidden compartments and lifted the living compartment as many feet as necessary for the chassis to clear.  the porch/bucket tipped down with hydraulic precision.  the shocks knealt to a laser-sensed 1 cm above any obstacles, and the drag truck/bucket mule pulled silently forward.  lp wankel pushes a savonius coil.  this truck hauls semis.  as it clears, the curtain drops below the front overhang.  embedded led’s show an outline of a human climbing down to a chair with a guitar.  the curtain raises, and the wasteoid emerges.  the work lights on the bucket what we use to deliver shingles up to roofs doubles as a remote controlled light show during play time.  the blade folds away.  we only decapitated a few archetypes along the way.  r & d is a cruel mistress.  king missile is beautiful.  i let the tape play after the video, and now i’m live-blogging that.  hey.  king missle, everyone, give ‘em a hand.  the album is called happy hour.  i didn’t even show the tape case on the video.  fuck.  i fail, hard corps.  i will edit it in.  will that suppeassedly youthen?  likely.  ness.

taps was played earlier for a lost tweet.  it was a doozy.  i didn’t even try to rememberize it.  it may return, in which case it was never meant to tweet.  i shall now hunt it down and light it on fire.  ole!

the next time someone gets stabby to me, i will take out my knife and open the blade, turning the handle towards them.  then, i will hand it to them as i ask for a hug.  as we’re hugging, i will be hoping that the police report will describe 27 stab wounds, but instead i just get warm fuzzies from someone who had just dropped my favorite knife on the floor.  thanks, d’oh, youuu.

giggled as i dismantled a necktie for an ass patch for my work pants.  we make high class sleeper armor.  bring it.  with Versace and thong.  what?  you mean your work pants don’t have a tramp stamp?  weird.

i’ve got the tape deck installed with a line to the computer.  i’m going to finish the video and the patch tonight.  multi-functional, once functional.  ever-functional.

i designed more work armor.  the upper.  warm tatters beneath, foundry shirt exterior.  zipper/button front.  it will have Versace shoulder and elbow patches, perhaps.

ok, so this is gonna work well, we thinks.  so, while we record the rest of the album, we’re gonna go sew a bit.  yes, good.

i’m going to match up the silences on this tape recording.  good.  leave them as whole files.  flac?  might as well.  full retrieval.  as long as we’re recording, we may as well capture as much detail as possible.  yes.  good.  thank you.  i love you.  i love you, too.  i love [that there will be] cake.  yes, all of the above.

it’s 11, and all we did was resize a sweatshirt.  you didn’t even build a patch?  you’re worthless.  no, i have not yet built a patch.  look, there isn’t going to be roofing this week, so we’re ok doing it later.  are we going to make it to work on time?  probably.

it’s 11:48 pm, and video is up.  sleep is now in shorter supply than we liked, but we’re publishing anyway.



~ by LazyAssWasteoid on 2011-09-25 (Sunday).

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