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Perceptive. Butterfly. I’d like the vulgar, in
emotional one closer to reason and her heart
and vivid imagery. Oh, nap time. That’s currently
in the stupid, Scotto, rainbows and desire: both;
spikes and trees hiding spring loaded scything blades;
force, some wild rabbits that children to be
have to some dirt makeup and is a walk
up at home, and made of discord.

This is Scotto, signing off… g’nite!

chupacabra song

chupa chup. not to be confused with chupacabra.Chupacabra! not a lollypop!!Her name is Chupa, the Chupacabra,
With ugly spikeys in her hair and a spine exposed to air.
She don’t meringue, don’t do no cha-cha,
But it’s the thing she does the best, That most people do detest.
She does it all night long, just listen to my song.
One day a goat will be walking by,
Next he’s awfully dry.

She’s the Chupa (Chup), the Chupacabra (Chupacabra)
Her mealtime’s a taste of macabre (Yeah?)
Yes, the Chupa (Chup), the Chupacabra (Ooh),
She sucks goat’s blood and she’s not my bud
Yes she’s the Chupa….She strikes at night.

His name was Pico. He was a farmer.
He once had 30 head of goat, now not one darn sheepskin coat,
Because the Chupa, she paid a visit.
And while our Pico slept in bed, Chup enjoyed much blood-a-red,
Pico woke up that day,
Did not know what to say,
There was blood and some 30 goat heads,
He knelt down to pray. She’s the Chupa (Chup), the Chupacabra (Chupacabra),
Her mealtime’s a taste of macabre (Yeah?)
Yes, the Chupa (Chup), the Chupacabra (Ooh),
She sucks goat’s blood and she’s not my bud
Yes she’s the Chupa….She strikes at night.

Whatever happened to the Burger King?

When I was a kid I remember seeing the Burger King in commercials. He was a real guy. He danced around performing magic and helping kids get Burger King meals. All that seems to be left of the Kings legacy is the paper replica of his crown that you can get for the little scamps.

and why do both ronald mcdonald and the burger king have red hair?

speaking of which, I’ve been to the very 1st bk lounge… it’s The first location is at 3090 NW 36th Street, should you care to visit.

*hungry

I want onion rings!

Apologies to the muthaship.

LJ, y’all.
Now this is what I want you all to do:
If you got faults, defects or shortcomings,
You know, like arthritis, rheumatism or migraines,
Whatever part of your body it is,
I want you to lay it on the LJ, let the vibes flow through.
Funk not only moves, it can re-move, dig?
The desired effect is what you get
When you improve your Interplanetary Funksmanship.
Sir Lollipop Man! Chocolate coated, freaky and and habit forming.
Doin’ it to you in 3-D,
So groovy that I dig me.
Once upon a time called Now!
Somebody say, “Is there funk after death?”
I say, “Is Seven Up?”
Yeah, P.Funk!

get it out, rewrite later, when more awake… in the style of a semibiography translated from 1349.

There are some in my family who say I bear a passing resemlence to Ziito, the large height, wild hair, predeliction to tell tall tales, and a willingness to confuse and amuse the royals as well as the common man.I’m going to tell you about my third favorite ancestor, and then go to bed…one of the most remarkable magicians of whom history has any record, Ziito.

He was a sorcerer at the court of King Wenceslaus of Bohemia (afterwards Emperor of Germany) toward the end of the 14th century and among his more famous exploits is on chronicled by Dulsavius, bishop of Olmutz, in his History of Bohemia. On the occasion of the marriage of Wenceslaus with Sophia, daughter of the elector Palatine of Bavaria, the elector, knowing his son-in-law’s liking for juggling and magical exhibitions, brought in his train with a number of morris-dancers, jugglers and such entertainers. When they came forward to give their exhibition, Ziito remained unobtrusively among the spectators. He was not entirely unnoticed, however, for his remarkable appearance drew the attention of those around him. His oddest feature was his mouth, which actually stretched from ear to ear. After watching the magicians for some time in silence, Ziito appeared to become exasperated at the halting way in which the tricks were carried through and going up to the principal magician he taunted him with incompetency. The rival professor defended his performance, and a discussion ensured which ended at last by Ziito swallowing his opponent just as he stood, leaving only his shoes, which were said to be dirty, and unfit for consumption. After this extraordinary feat, he retired for a little while to a closet, from which he shortly emerged, leading the rival magician by the hand. He then gave a performance of his own which put the former exhibition entirely in the shade. He changed himself into many diverse shapes, taking the form first one person than another, none of whom bore any resemblance either to himself or each other. In a car drawn by barn-door fowl, he kept pace with the King’s carriage. When the guests were assembled at dinner, the played a multitude of elfish tricks on them, to their amusement or annoyance, however the case may be.

Indeed he was at all times an exceedingly mischievous creature, as is shown by another story told of him. Feigning to be in want of money, and apparently casting about for the means for obtaining some, he at length took a handful of corn and made it look like thirty fat hogs. These he took to Michael, a rich but very mean dealer. The latter purchased them after some haggling, but was warned not to let them drink at the river. The warning was disregarded , and the hogs turned back into the grains of corn. The enraged dealer went in search of Ziito, whom he found at last at a vintner’s shop. In vain Michael shouted and stamped, the magician took no notice, but seemed to be in a fit of abstraction. The dealer, beside himself seized Ziito’s foot and pulled it as hard as he could. To his dismay, the foot and leg came right off while Ziito screamed lustily and hauled Michael before the judge, where the two presented their complaints. What the decision was, history doesn’t relate, but it is unlikely that Ziito came off for the worse.- (from Spence’s Encyclopedia of the Occult.)

Very extraordinary things are related of Ziito, a sorcerer, in the court of Wenceslaus, king of Bohemia and afterwards emperor of Germany, in the latter part of the fourteenth century. This is perhaps, all things considered, the most wonderful specimen of magical power any where to be found. It is gravely recorded by Dubravius, bishop of Olmutz, in his History of Bohemia. It was publicly exhibited on occasion of the marriage of Wenceslaus with Sophia, daughter of the elector Palatine of Bavaria, before a vast assembled multitude.

The father-in-law of the king, well aware of the bridegroom’s known predilection for theatrical exhibitions and magical illusions, brought with him to Prague, the capital of Wenceslaus, a whole waggon-load of morrice-dancers and jugglers, who made their appearance among the royal retinue. Meanwhile Ziito, the favourite magician of the king, took his place obscurely among the ordinary spectators. He however immediately arrested the attention of the strangers, being remarked for his extraordinary deformity, and a mouth that stretched completely from ear to ear. Ziito was for some time engaged in quietly observing the tricks and sleights that were exhibited. At length, while the chief magician of the elector Palatine was still busily employed in shewing some of the most admired specimens of his art, the Bohemian, indignant at what appeared to him the bungling exhibitions of his brother-artist, came forward, and reproached him with the unskilfulness of his performances. The two professors presently fell into warm debate. Ziito, provoked at the insolence of his rival, made no more ado but swallowed him whole before the multitude, attired as he was, all but his shoes, which he objected to because they were dirty. He then retired for a short while to a closet, and presently returned, leading the magician along with him.

Having thus disposed of his rival, Ziito proceeded to exhibit the wonders of his art. He shewed himself first in his proper shape, and then in those of different persons successively, with countenances and a stature totally dissimilar to his own; at one time splendidly attired in robes of purple and silk, and then in the twinkling of an eye in coarse linen and a clownish coat of frieze. He would proceed along the field with a smooth and undulating motion without changing the posture of a limb, for all the world as if he were carried along in a ship. He would keep pace with the king’s chariot, in a car drawn by barn-door fowls. He also amused the king’s guests as they sat at table, by causing, when they stretched out their hands to the different dishes, sometimes their hands to turn into the cloven feet of an ox,and at other times into the hoofs of a horse. He would clap on them the antlers of a deer, so that, when they put their heads out at window to see some sight that was going by, they could by no means draw them back again; while he in the mean time feasted on the savoury cates that had been spread before them, at his leisure.

At one time he pretended to be in want of money, and to task his wits to devise the means to procure it. On such an occasion he took up a handful of grains of corn, and presently gave them the form and appearance of thirty hogs well fatted for the market. He drove these hogs to the residence of one Michael, a rich dealer, but who was remarked for being penurious and thrifty in his bargains. He offered them to Michael for whatever price he should judge reasonable. The bargain was presently struck, Ziito at the same time warning the purchaser, that he should on no account drive them to the river to drink. Michael however paid no attention to this advice; and the hogs no sooner arrived at the river, than they turned into grains of corn as before. The dealer, greatly enraged at this trick, sought high and low for the seller that he might be revenged on him. At length he found him in a vintner’s shop seemingly in a gloomy and absent frame of mind, reposing himself, with his legs stretched out on a form. The dealer called out to him, but he seemed not to hear. Finally he seized Ziito by one foot, plucking at it with all his might. The foot came away with the leg and thigh; and Ziito screamed out, apparently in great agony. He seized Michael by the nape of the neck, and dragged him before a judge. Here the two set up their separate complaints, Michael for the fraud that had been committed on him, and Ziito for the irreparable injury he had suffered in his person. From this adventure came the proverb, frequent in the days of the historian, speaking of a person who had made an improvident bargain, “He has made just such a purchase as Michael did with his hogs.”

from Godwin’s Lives of the Necromancers

{recount my comperable tales involving Dunkin’ Donuts, the drunk with the glass eye, and the yodelling nanny goat. also the country-fried steak eating contest with Steve at Po’ Folks.}

“All nature is but art, unknown to thee
All chance, direction which thou canst not see;
All discord, harmony not understood”

–Alexander Pope

Livejournal is a sort of collective unconscious swizzle stick, broadcasting thought waves which are picked up by the minds of those within its area of readability. This area is vast. It’s fueled by written material which is dumped into an electromagnetic hopper and shredded, sifted by date, and mixed at random on each person’s friend’s list, and the nature of the material determines the imagery it sends out.

Journal emanations remain in my psychic atmosphere for about a week after usage. Then…as quickly as they appeared, most visions and rumors disappear from memory in all but the most grounded in information.

From what I’ve observed, its power to blur the difference between hoax and truth, rumor and fact is boundless. Folks sometimes forget that this place is comprised of opinion, supposition, and perceptions… not to mention the frequent instances of outright lies, which serve only to confuse and befuddle those that are trying to get the big picture. I feel that some players in this game we have here honestly begin to believe the stories they tell, even though the know that they were begun as embellishment or outright fabrication.

A pretty peculiar thing … but if a person doesn’t like any particular memory fragment or bit of story can be edited clean out of your personal space simply, if not always easily, and others added to the mix just as simply. Like it or not most people’s views filter into any mind that stumbles across it, even if only on a subconscious level. That’s part of why I choose things the way I do. I think I like the “stained glass” effect of my reading list. different colors, different views, amounts of light coming through on several frequencies. I think it all comes together in a fascinating kaleidoscope of design, each moment just a little bit different.

Thanks, Gang, for sharing your truths, your tales, and your thoughts. Whether or not I agree with you completely, I like seeing the mosaic that is the result of them all.

Glasses and headaches, burdens and relief.

I'll love forever, with or without sight. I see my love's beauty in my heart.Nostia is a city of shadows and memory, its denizens are blind or going so, and the blind from other places migrate here assured of sympathy among the sightless citizenry. For these reasons, Nostia is the most treasured of all cities. Those going blind look upon her their last time as if seeing her their first time… faces, places they will not know again, consummations that will never taste as sweet. They will look at the simplest thing, the yellowing curl of a dry leaf, and they will see in it expressed all the sorrow of the world cupped in its curve, the passing of time, memory.

There are cities within cities in Nostia. Closed, lost worlds, systems of thought, language, gesture that fade from the consciousness of the citizenry, who nightly close their eyes on things long past, or things that never were, images already darkening or wearing away. New worlds also, for every sensation of Nostia, every touch, scent, sound, is pregnant with association. Many are those who will sit for long hours in revelry, when the sound of a flute or the soft murmur in a voice, puts them in mind of warm afternoons and quiet siestas.

These are fleeting, fading syllables, and the images will never seem as real. The words savor of bitterness, turn to ash, bile on the lips, holding one meaning for the sighted and another for the blind. Another name for Nostia is “The City of Trifles”, for memory is an uneven thing, and the most insignificant pittances catch in it.

meeting tomorrow, I get to go in early to talk about health insurance and why my raise wasn’t on this week’s check. I’ll be there, instead of hanging out with my sweetie from 11 to noon.

I hope it lets out before the roach coach comes by. the soda machine is not taking bills again. besides, I want a big honking iced tea or two.

did I ever mention that it actually plays “la cucaracha” on the horn when it pulls up?

Bringing letters into work tomorrow to scan. Maybe I can write a griffin & sabine sort of story out of ’em?

Reflections –

Every time I go out and immerse myself in nature – camping, hiking, climbing (Ha! like I do any climbing – let’s say “meandering” instead. Yeah, that’s it. Meandering through nature.) – I am always struck by just how paltry my own imagination is compared to the majesty of the world’s real, living scenery.

And yet, I’m still sometimes, somehow disappointed that there are no goblins scuttering around in the underbrush, or that the half-buried boulders are not, in fact, the knucklebones of slumbering giants. (Or… are they?)

weeping cherry tree
Made a new icon today, for tales of travelling and general outings.

Today has been gentle… took it off from work, and it has been a lovely day to do so. Soft rains coming down, comfortable atmosphere… poring over these old letters are fun.. contained in a small leather packet, there are some that have ben partially lost due to folding, or having been written in pencil, years ago.

My beloved gifted me with a poem that she wrote last night…from beauty comes beauty… like flame begetting flame. I’m still delighted, and have had warm fuzzies all day long because of it.

Reflecting on all the good things today… I’m really surrounded by so many blessings…I’m well fed, shod, loved, and loving. I have a job that helps to provide for my financial needs… disease free, literate and on the whole quite healthy. My only complaints are trivial, developmental or philosophical… I’m quite comfortable where I am now, and things are getting better daily.

I’ve reaffirmed something to myself recently…this is my journal, not one that belongs to anyone else on my friend’s list. Folks are welcome to come and go, and post what they please, as long as they keep a civil tongue… and if they are critical, they keep a civil, constructive tongue in their head. I’m quite happy with my new policy of “the people I read are like magazines (with a few exceptions)…I’m more than happy to cancel a subscription at any time, with no obligation”.

according to http://www.livejournal.com/stats.bml There are over 300,000 journals in here now, with about 1/4 of that updating at least once a week. I can hardly keep up with the 80 on my list now…I wonder how many excellent, intelligent writers out there I’m missing? (I can only guess at how many not so excellent, not-so-intelligent ones I’m missing… the random journal feature for me is officially marked lemon now. Interests seems to be the search feature of choice for me now.

It’s been exactly one year today since I’ve seen a shark in Florida waters. (Last time I went surfing with my brother, too.)

A lot has happened in the last year…

I’ve met a wonderful girl, and have been seeing her steadily for nearly a year. (Folks who read my journal know this pretty well by now.)

It’s getting harder to see my brother, regularly, now that he works Sundays. (He doesn’t seem to want to get together often, either… guilty for my treating him all the time. Heck, I’m happy to share a popsicle in the park with him, as long as we can get together.)

My mom’s called to let me know she’s back from her trip to Brazil (She’s been there since I moved to this apartment…a whole season.) I have to ring her back with my new address, and a time for she, Derek and myself to get together for lunch.

I’m feeling a need to take tomorrow off from work. I wanted to skip Friday, but was needed too much. If I can pull it off, I will.

story seed? it’s true!

At one point, Beijing was a walled city. In ’69, for fear of impending Soviet attack (note the era: Cultural Revolution), Mao had them taken down to provide bricks for a network of bomb shelters.

The resulting “underground city” was designed to house 300,000 people for 4 months. Although foreign tourists are allowed to see them, no Chinese are admitted. The little-known entrance is just a bit south of Tiananmen Square.

In a semi-related note, there is continuing construction on the city’s subway, with the junction stations seemingly finished, but the lower levels are in a state of filth and unkept disarray, devoting no effort while they wait for a tunnel that has yet to arrive.

Moving parts in rubbing contact require lubrication to avoid excessive wear. Honorifics and formal politeness provide lubrication where people rub together. Often, the very young, the untraveled, the naive, the unsophisticated deplore these formalities as ’empty’ or ‘meaningless’, or ‘dishonest’ and scorn the use of them. No matter how ‘pure’ their motives, they thereby throw sand into machinery that does not work too well at best.

Back from my errands.
Picked up some cleaning supplies for the bathroom, I ran out of tilex.
Got an area rug, and a futon for the living room… plus a indoor doormat to match the area rug.
minor groceries, just fluids & cereal, really
some trinkets of happiness for newt (plastic bags to play in, and milk rings) myself (the cereal toy… looks like a digital watch) and for my sweetheart(not tellin’..she’ll have to drag it out of me or romance it out. 😉

Thought a bit more on Jack & Liz’s story… I’d like to see if I can get the effect of changeling in there, minus the amnesia. Trying to write more as a semi-script for a film or movie, too, just to get the feel of it.

Pondering the coming days of gifties… my brother, Kevin, Newt, Moonflower, and Mom are all coming in the next few months. I was at K-mart today, and saw all sorts of kung-fu DVDs for cheap (like $5 per…) and I showed some restraint. but… I could get 5 or 10 of ’em for Kev, and that’d make him happy. He likes chop-socky kung-fu more than I do. Maybe that, and or a video game.. easily enough done.

Derek… I wonder if he’d prefer cash to a gift, as he’s going through tight times right now. I offer to give him cash now and then, but I think he feels guilty for taking it… He will if he’s starving but not a moment before. maybe money and a nicely written letter. I don’t know.. I could get him a sound card, too… he’s still using a mute system.

Newt, he’s not in the picture until the first week of October. I can’t believe he’s going to be 2! The simplest to shop for… Nip, toys, and lots and lots of love.