cocoa cavern – novemper fourteentember 2011

Being the tired knob that I am, I left my camera at school, so today’s fridge will be brought to you via poorly drawn computer rendering. it’s an awesome chocolate party over here at the money garden. and rather than spend my me-time being other people, I’ve decided to spend it firdging. the mountainous amount of things piling up… things to do, things that have to be done, oh it grows! but everything’s coming together now and reality of it is very exciting.

ugh, drawing is not happening… too goddam tired. so there.

correction, no… in addition! love is bustling! – know wimper hurt teen to went he el heaven

a day of such great intensity. not an intensity that overwhelms, but is certainly consuming, but in a gorgeous cake-eating sort of way. (must make chocolate cake)
let’s be honest, as much as I would like to firdge, there are just so many other demanding demanders knocking at my brain door. so, firdgers, bare bear with me!

love is a creamy thing – nowayvember twelvember twendyelvember

so there. fantastic and sad friday full of maybe babies. itchy, peely dadoo healy healing, slow but sure, fast and yeah. pieces are coming together and others and crumbling away. what’s so lovely, is that it’s all ok. so much to do in the next week… and I don’t know that that’s sunk in yet.
let me tell you a little something about happiness: it sneaks up on you. it spills out the corners of your mouth when you’re so desperate to be serious. it makes you scream like tv when someone comes up behind you when you’re shrunk down in a corner of books, hiding like a half hidey thing. it smudges mediocrity… in the same way a flashlight smudges shadows. it’s the laydown after a super hot shower.
he says it’s mario 3 time…. so onto world seven. nighty nuggets

scab crawl reference day – elven elven elven

skyrimless and not that concerned. gorgeous and windy in a november way. there’s lots of colour today, no shortage in sight. and I think that’s a great way to slurm into winter. I’ve got drawing and gluing on the agenda. I’ve got cleaning and purging on there too. I feel like I should be making so many things. I feel like there’s some bit of happiness not meant to be thrown out… like I can save some goodness from the trash, from the ditch, from being forgotten. so I suppose I’ll get on that, get right on that. get to fixin’ and puttering. would like to do laundry, but it’ll just hafta wait. should call my dad.
I like heading out into the world all decked out in cold weather gear. I like the bundle. I like having pony’s arm around me and mine around him. I like the wind and the expensive coffee and the pink hoodie of  a sister-girl. I feel an awful lot bubbling in a baking soda sort of way… best get on that. volcano volcano volcano blow

‘wonk, ‘ she spat – no femmers tent 2011

a funny number day… an odd day all around. feels a lot later than it is, or at least it did, but the real time seems to be catching up to the time it feels like it is. we’re going to head out into the night air and collect some funny paper. so much of now seems to be spent on tomorrow… interesting how much of life is spent in preparation for life. but know this, 2L bottles of coke, when in the right hands, are crazy. crazier than digby and ginger put together.
I’m taking tonight off because I need to, and because I can. My dadoo is much less hurty today, though still a bit of a trial. it’s nice to be nice, and it’s often hard to ignore an undone button fly… especially when the politics of spain are involved. also, my library sounds like a vampire-hunter’s den. just missing the green strobe lights and leather everything. wtf super typical noisey rave movie music?

hot, hot laughter spills out into the night – novicecumcumers (that should have read cucumbers) twintyolivin

pony the whisk master over hear, bumpin’ up some stove tunes… ah but where’s his raver glasses? it’s all damply mild and sewer blue outside tonight. My favourite tree in town is all lit up like an icy sparkler. I think I’ve writ myself out today… bunged out some pages, and let’s face it, I peaked on the title of this post, so it’s all kinda downhill now.

firdge the verb – ate thuv known umpires tebby elebby

I already wrote a little diddy today and it may have tapped that part out. Also, this plaguey essay is still on my heels and I should really be centring on that… typical of me to be up all night writy writing away like a mad, sad thing. at least I know to end with gusto and to do that means to end with: ‘and harder is insane.’

wiggly wiggly noff embers sieben elf

mario 3, what a time.
in other worlds, well needed conversation… all from smiley brunettes now that I think about it. brown is currently best!  also the best, kissing a good hot forehead. I highly recommend it.
I can’t seem to focus here, so I’ll leave it with the magnets… they probably seem a tad heavier than intended, but you know, it’s been a heavy goddam time. but there’s a bizarre lightness, a lightness I was trying to articulate earlier during a rather ‘insert snooker commentator voice here’ tender moment between two lovers, that I feel a strange undeniable happiness. this is entirely derived from my being so profoundly greatful in the most general sense. so, let’s celebrate that, all of us. the first snow! the first fuck! the first first!  I’m forcing it now… a good cue to stop.

lazy orange couch pop – november 6th 2011

starting off the month six days in, sometimes it’s the way to go. not that I’ve really been absent… if anything, I’ve been more here than anywhere. been more where than anyhere not as much. you know what’s utterly distracting? trying to firdge while you strain to listen to someone reporting a bizarre incident to the police cops over the phoney. and then your round cat of seven years starts gumming the screen and projecting general cuteness. due to the lack of recent posts, I feel somewhat obliged to be more specific and meandering in today’s drop. so how’s this:
one of the best ways I know how to wake up, is by having a really terrific warm body – and not just any body, but a body that holds a person so warm and glowy, so sunshine-fuckworthy-goodtimes-love-your-laugh-could-float-on-the-sound-waves-you-make-able kind of body/person combo – descend upon you. to get all alphaghetti with them and maybe make some noises too slap squawk to describe on a generally pg blog.  then you can follow up this undoubtedly lovely burst from the starting gate by bussing on up to campus and parking your fall-armor clad ass in a radio booth. you can listen to new tunes strung together by the self-conscious narration of the one and only pony! (no one else will do in this situation, really) hang about in the heat of this funny house until you’re ushered out by the most cliché asian pop music, you know, the stuff that turns people off non-western-sounding sounds and sparks squinty racist comments… right, have that play you out and follow you in conversation walking, scuttling through newly fallen leaves on dry, dry paving stones. also rock a massive and oblong sack of oats home in the cold, misty sunshine of downtown in november. I find the best way to add to all those events is to celebrate with a super late breakfast/lunch… celebrate being home; the spending of daylight; the delight of one another’s company…      the best ever french toast with bacon (not touching, syrup must not touch bacon [for me, for others, hey, that’s your gory soup]) and coffee and some rad wizard music should do it.
after all that, I can only speculate. I can only hope and enjoy and do my besty to send out love and yielding and divine contentedness. our cat, ‘livvy (‘liffy) purring her thrum-a-whurrrr into my feet and ear-holes amplifies all that goodness… like really good jam, on really good toast. I welcome, and I’d be so bold as to assume that we – pony and I – welcome the new atlas sound record and it’s probability to cement these orange couch feelings into fluid late-fall music memory furniture. it’s a good thing to have. it’s a good thing to listen to.
shit, something about an essay calls me out from this.

ketchup sundae

I slacked. not sure what sort of summary to leave here, but to accompany the unkown, I attach a blurry night-timey firdge shot. sometimes it’s easy to let the business of being busy overtake you and make you think you don’t have time for things, when you sort of have time for all the things! I haven’t felt the need (nor have I ever kneaded felt, really) to do anything about the tattoo on my neck, but I think it’s time to address the leftovers. any intelligent person could agree that the best thing to do with leftovers, is to reheat/serve them in a way that spiffs them up… you know, new life, new gravy… new hot eats. we’ll see.
now we know. now we know, oh we know now… now we know.’