The Throwing of the Snit, Vol 42 (with duck)
12/18/2009 11:16 AM – 11:36 AM
Well, it’s finally cold here. I’m cold. My room is fine but the regular trips out to the stairwell to smoke creeps into my skin and lingers. I’m tired and grumpy. I want to go to sleep, but if I did that, I would have really completely wasted the morning. I was up by 8, but I spent the morning on YouTube and Wikipedia. Researching things that I’m only mildly interested in and have nothing to do with what I’m working on.
Grr. Grumpy Spike. Empowered to be sullen and dull. And the sun is shining and I have no reason to be grumpy. I haven’t written, according to my stopwatch program, in three days. I actually like the new project but I’m having trouble doing what I need to be doing – getting up, putting ass to chair and writing. I actually got up on time today. I put my ass in the chair. And then I did nothing but goof around on the internet. Aside from this stream of whining, which I have been engaging in frequently in my head, I’ve been thinking about love. It isn’t really there, you know. Not like death. That was me making fun of myself by the way. My humor is lost if I’m not there to be overly dramatic in person. It is fun to say the most horrible things that you can think of in public and be amusing with it.
I figured out a long time ago that no one really want to know what you think about things really. They want you to be amusing. Dance fat monkey. Dance. See. Grumpy Spike. Sullen and dull. So what magic can I whip up to save face? That’s the problem. Not just boring, I’m running on empty. Grr. Hot soup. Hot soup is the answer. Hot soup and hot shower. Together at last. Together forever. So I walk into this Duck Store and I say, “I’d like to buy a duck.” And the clerk says, “What kind of duck are you looking for?” And I say, “The kind that makes you happy.” And the clerk says, “Oh. In that case, you might want to try the Highly Improbable but Thoroughly Entertaining Daydream Duck. I’d recommend you have a side of fries.” The duck was tasty but ultimately impossible. You wanted more within a few minutes of finishing. What’s duck like? It’s like you want more duck. The clouds are rippled like old nylon batting, fallen from an over-used department store pillow. More adverbs! More adverbs, he cries. But adverbs I have none to give, Ebenezer. Circling. Circling the words. Circling the words, always looking for the joke. The one thing that makes unknowing palatable.
Well, it’s finally cold here. I’m cold. My room is fine but the regular trips out to the stairwell to smoke creeps into my skin and lingers. I’m tired and grumpy. I want to go to sleep, but if I did that, I would have really completely wasted the morning. I was up by 8, but I spent the morning on YouTube and Wikipedia. Researching things that I’m only mildly interested in and have nothing to do with what I’m working on.
Grr. Grumpy Spike. Empowered to be sullen and dull. And the sun is shining and I have no reason to be grumpy. I haven’t written, according to my stopwatch program, in three days. I actually like the new project but I’m having trouble doing what I need to be doing – getting up, putting ass to chair and writing. I actually got up on time today. I put my ass in the chair. And then I did nothing but goof around on the internet. Aside from this stream of whining, which I have been engaging in frequently in my head, I’ve been thinking about love. It isn’t really there, you know. Not like death. That was me making fun of myself by the way. My humor is lost if I’m not there to be overly dramatic in person. It is fun to say the most horrible things that you can think of in public and be amusing with it.
I figured out a long time ago that no one really want to know what you think about things really. They want you to be amusing. Dance fat monkey. Dance. See. Grumpy Spike. Sullen and dull. So what magic can I whip up to save face? That’s the problem. Not just boring, I’m running on empty. Grr. Hot soup. Hot soup is the answer. Hot soup and hot shower. Together at last. Together forever. So I walk into this Duck Store and I say, “I’d like to buy a duck.” And the clerk says, “What kind of duck are you looking for?” And I say, “The kind that makes you happy.” And the clerk says, “Oh. In that case, you might want to try the Highly Improbable but Thoroughly Entertaining Daydream Duck. I’d recommend you have a side of fries.” The duck was tasty but ultimately impossible. You wanted more within a few minutes of finishing. What’s duck like? It’s like you want more duck. The clouds are rippled like old nylon batting, fallen from an over-used department store pillow. More adverbs! More adverbs, he cries. But adverbs I have none to give, Ebenezer. Circling. Circling the words. Circling the words, always looking for the joke. The one thing that makes unknowing palatable.
posted by Spike at 8:39 AM
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