- oscar wilde
22. no matter how tempted i am with the prospect of unlimited power, i will not consume any energy field bigger than my head.
- from top 100 things i'd do if i ever became an evil overlord
the air pockets, the alkali wastes, the crumbling monuments, the putrescent cadavers, the crazy jig and maggot dance..
- anais nin
TODAY I WORKED and ran into emil. i'd forgotten about emil. emil is slim-hipped and has piercing eyes: the eyes of a date-rapist. whenever i see him he comes up and talks to me and leans in close, talking quietly. i have the strong feeling he wants to put his penis inside me. i have the strong feeling he doesn't care too much which part of me he sticks it in. what a nice man.
of course, i could be wrong. maybe he wants me to put my penis inside him. god willing, neither of these things will ever happen.
kurt vonnegut just died. i was so in love with kurt vonnegut when i was a teenager. he was like the king of ludicrous deadpan writing. i'll miss him. today i read some advice by kurt on writing short stories. there were 8 points. here's number 4:
i'll have a go at the former:
emil told me a story once about a male friend of his who was married. his friend's wife fucked him around or fucked around on him or something, and he went out and got drunk, real drunk, and woke up in the morning to discover he'd gone home with a man.
'he says to me,' says emil, leaning in close, 'he got the best head of his life. he says, the pleasure a man can give another man, how a woman can ever compare?'
'nice,' i say, and go somewhere else.
today i saw emil with another guy. they walked up to say hi.
'hi, my name's goatse,' said the other guy.
'goatse? mike.' i said, and offered my hand.
'no, goce,' he said, shaking it.
'no, my name is mike,' i said. he kept shaking my hand.
'goce. you said it wrong,' he said.
'welcome to australia, motherfucker,' i said. 'sayin your fuckin name wrong is a national fuckin hobby here'. i didn't really. sheesh! the very idea!
goce wandered off. emil leaned in close and his voice got low. uh-oh, i thought.
'what a fuckin idiot. his dick is bigger than his head,' said emil. wow, i thought. goce had a pretty big head, though admittedly most of it was hair.
'i mean his head is bigger than his dick. what a fuckin idiot.'
we were standing in an equipment room in the royal melbourne hospital. i was there because i work weekends as a delivery driver for a medical supplies company. it's a menial job, but it has its charms. for instance, you hear some pretty interesting conversations, walking around hospitals a lot. like this one: 'aaaaaaaaaaaa!'
or this: 'aaaa! aaaa! aaaa!'
or this: 'aaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!'
of course, it's not all screaming. (nice comedian-style segue, non?) sometimes there are words, too. for example:
'we're going to slide this tube up your nose. it's going to be very uncomfortable.'
'you're doing really well. try swallowing. it helps the tube go down faster.'
'aaaa! aaaa! aaaa!'
'you're doing great. nearly there!'
goce, whose dick is either bigger or smaller than his head, came back. what a fuckin idiot.
Monday, June 25, 2007
work is the curse of the drinking classes
OK, I LIED about the housemate stories. well, i wrote them. that much i did do. wrote two episodes worth. then i showed them to georgia, my other housemate. she said 'they're very funny. but don't send them.' and she was right, curse her.
i feel a lil bad about leading youse on, though, so i hunted through both the episodes i wrote, hunted for something i could publish with a clean conscience. i found one paragraph in each episode. here they are:
(have you ever noticed - this is a digression - i say, have you ever noticed the relative amounts of shelf real-estate taken up by different kinds of magazines in sex shops? i have. if a sex shop was a new-internationalist-style map showing unequal distribution of libidinal energy, then shaved anal teens from holland are the .001% of the world's population who own at least 50% of the world's sex shop magazine rack real estate. that surely ain't right. anyway, back to the story, mmkay?)
'nah, it's really not, babe.' said simon. 'after having amoebic dysentary in india and shitting out half my body weight, my anus has lost all erotic potential for me.'
i guess you'll just hafta imagine the rest. anyway, let's move on. the past, gentle reader, is behind us now.
4. Every sentence must do one of two things -- reveal character or advance the action.
2. you say goatse, i say mike
and on that note,