today as i was driving to work down north 13 highway before it turns into ashby there were many plunkings against my windshield and roof as the leaves on the trees began a merry fall dance, a swirling barrage of happy death, and heralding of the new season. almost halloween. almost thanksgiving. almost christmas.
i was torn this morning while reviewing the webpages on whether to reply to jason on his private comment page or to just let it slide and see what he said to himself next. sadly about 20 minutes later this exercise was lost in futility as both kristen and doug invdaded the sacred jason space. not that i’m upset about this. it certainly solved my dilemna about what i should do or not do. and that was really tearing me apart inside, you have no idea the pain i was going through. intense. no really.
scaberous tattoos peel off black scabs. isn’t that fascinating? i have big black bits of skin flaking off my leg right now. i am totally enthralled. it’s difficult not to stare at me all the time, constantly, like a radish spirit visual pull, i got the power. the scabby power. hmmm ok it’s not quite as hardcore as the radish. he had tusk/breast feelers after all. (for those of you who have no idea what i’m talking about maybe you should consider seeing spirited away a little more intently.)
pottery class is crazy fun. flinging bits of wet clay everywhere, getting all muddy, and it’s erotic. when you’re spinning the wheel and forcing the clay up into a cone shape…well hello phallus. and then when you’re opening the clay up to make a bowl/cup/whatever shape…how ya doing vagina. perhaps no one needed to know about my secret clay fantasties. but maybe you all really DID need to know.
seeing the ring tonight. after jacob’s brief but horrifying story of his friend who saw it and then slept in the dryer so that he could see all the entrances and exits i am a little afeared for my sanity mentality. i warn anyone who is going now, i will most likely be terrifiedly alternately clutching and punching like a maniac whoever is sitting next to me. speaking of this movie, did you all know that it’s actually a re-make of a japanese movie called ringu that had a slew of sequels? and it’s based on a series of books by nakata koji, also, i believe, called ringu. not for lack of trying, but it seems impossible to get any of the originals over here. the books haven’t been translated into english, netflix doesn’t have any of the movies, and neither did amazon…as far as i could tell. i think maybe they might have it and were just trying to hide it from me out of sheer perversity. damn you, amazon.
hi scabby. you are certainly lyrical this morning. glad you are enjoying your pottery so, uh, intensely. I wish I had something interesting to write about, like scabs and phalluses.
I however did not need to know about your clay fantasies as I am at the table next to you. Don’t look at me in class anymore! No looking
aw, she can look. it would just be creepy if she reached over and touched. right?
ahhh! no touching nuala in class!
BOTH. both are now creepy
hee hee hee….
oh man, now you HAVE to wait until she’s reall concentrating and then lean over with a creepy grin and say “TOUCH!”
Well, to be more precise, this guy’s not so much a friend, but someone whose webpage I read on a regular basis.
And if you’re going to sneak up on someone and say, “Touch,” then you might as well take the full-on Anderson BackTouch route. Sneak up, VERY VERY genlty place your finger on their back, and whisper “backtouch” very softly and lavisciously into their ear.
oooh anderson. I have been so surrounded by his cult that I love him by association.
you read someone else’s webpage? are you venturing out far from the fold, jacob?
hmmm… it’s a shame, there could’ve been *too* much material here for the stalker… i’ve come to learn that i have a thing for the ellipsis… not sure how to stop really… michele, i think maybe you’ve seen “ghost” just a few too many times. that’s not patrick swayze on that pottery wheel, oh no.
ha. but i’ve only seen ghost once. and i was wayyyyy too young to read anything into it then. besides, he’s only good in dirty dancing. which i was also too young to fully grasp with a dirty, dirty mind back in the day.
Where’s the pottery class at? I made a bunch of penis objects at the ASUC art studio a few years ago. Some girl got all upset and wrote things like “asshole” with a permenant ink marker. I was cool with that because it all burned off in the firing.
uhhh……it’s at the ASUC art studio.
are you…JUST lurking?