Week 49 of 2025

what you cookin’, chicken?

what’s crackin?

hows u wee chick?

it’s zip’s birthday on tuesday. happy birthday zipper. it comes so natural to me to act unnaturally. sorry kiddo. happy birthday. sorry i didn’t tell more stories. you’re a good writer. breaks my heart.

is a relationship called a ship because it’s a form of transportation? hope you’re in a better time and space now.

this week was good, some unanswered questions got puzzled out and solved. 4 across, 1995 coming-of-age movie inspired by Austen’s Emma [8]. not everything with red nose and animal feet has to be so dear. it’s gravy; no tinted lenses.

on tuesday night i went out to the low stakes | high spirits event. i’d not eaten and i foolishly changed jackets just before leaving. the jacket change wasn’t foolish, it was the right thing for the look but the foolish part was that the babybels were in the pocket of jacket #1. during the event i slowly perished. everyone was great. agnes and kat were really a joy to watch. i wish i’d not been about to faint the entire night. it was a wonderful time even though the tight space, throngy crowd and loud noises conspired to provide me the distinct emotional journey i’d imagine of a house dog’s first time in the kennels during a holiday. oscar was never the same.

[Chaz eating his porridge] “Some magic is real you know mam”, [Me eating my toast] “Is it? like what?” [Chaz with a nonchalant shrug] “Buttercups”.

— the website of alice bartlett

i’m getting closer to understanding my place in the place i’m in now. no longer so near to climbing into a coffin and await collection by the reaper. remember how joel used to offer that as a third solution to every choice? “we could implement it in a way that isn’t supported in firefox, or we could ask Pre if it can go out without the spin, or we could close the curtains lie down and wait for it all to be over”. anyway. it’s all about the alley oop.

walk on by like the sun is shining
always smiling like you just fell in love

the body as a template

and i said “what is that?”

and she said “it’s a crown of thorns”

and i said “why do you have a crown of thorns?”

and she said “it’s for mitchell. i talk to him, OK?”

and a year later there they were in the basement. and i was in trunk of the car.

and a few years later he was dead in a different car in new orleans.

and on Saturday i went out to the newspeak xmas party which was a wonderful night. the party itself was fine. goblin oats was there in a longish coat, solid bloke. watch him go. lock ‘n’ load, rock ‘n’ roll. a night i would have been sort of low was awesome though for having him and who he’d brought in tow. chau pham is outstanding; we had a lot of fun going from place to place enjoying ourselves via strangers. good times. afterwards we three went to a sit down cocktail bar called equal parts and drank tomato water. highly recommend equal parts for its tomato water. it’s clear! tastes like eatin spaghetti!

anyway. it’s all about the alley-oop, is what i’m saying. what i’m trying to say.

this time last year i was “a ghost haunting my own body”. the year before that i was “gazing doe-eyed into the imagined future”. and the year before that i had the mexican fingernails and the 「ANTICIPATION」 and i was just about to make a series of extremely important choices. a choice can look like it’s bad or good depending on where you choose to start and end the window of its influence. if everything is good now, and it’s because of the bad times… that’s how you get to be lucky. you tell yourself that the good times is how it’s supposed to be and the bad times are the stepping stones.

It’s a single motion; as above so below; as the world so the soul.

night time, daytime, sunshine, blood. volume 1. “it’s the wanting”. bite the bedbugs. la belle et la bête of the ball.

twoticks