pour me another glass

wendy: I'M HUNGRRRRRRRRRRRRRY

: HUNGRY BEAR

: must stop being such a hungry

: doesn't make sense

: no sir

me: what

wendy: nothing


in other news, i make cheesecake!

pen a cotta

work has been miserable. i've picked up pastry-making as a coping mechanism. somehow i feel wary about finding a new outlet other than writing for my angst and misery and rage. as the saying goes, the pen is mightier than the sword. now it seems the pastry is mightier than the pen. as if i didn't already suffer from lack of inspiration and discipline, the oven is killing the writer in me. huh. so i guess i should name my inner writer sylvia plath...

ok, tasteless.

oh henry

dream song 29

There sat down, once, a thing on Henry's heart
só heavy, if he had a hundred years
& more, & weeping, sleepless, in all them time
Henry could not make good.
Starts again always in Henry's ears
the little cough somewhere, an odour, a chime.

And there is another thing he has in mind
like a grave Sienese face a thousand years
would fail to blur the still profiled reproach of. Ghastly,
with open eyes, he attends, blind.
All the bells say: too late. This is not for tears;
thinking.

But never did Henry, as he thought he did,
end anyone and hacks her body up
and hide the pieces, where they may be found.
He knows: he went over everyone, & nobody's missing.
Often he reckons, in the dawn, them up.
Nobody is ever missing.




it's one of those days...

a public service announcement

if you are fat, balding, and harbor a penchant for shiny purple shirts, today's post is for you:

i has lonely

no more lurking in the dark corners of bars, hoping to cop a feel as a drunk girl stumbles past you to hurl in the bathroom. no more lonely nights spent spilling ezmac on yourself while flirting with could-be-females through avatar-based chatrooms. no more calculating how much jail time that pretty young thang might be worth if you followed her home.

Roxxxy is here for you. the fantasy female of many many men's dreams, this robot is life-size, hot, and lacks free will. this means incapable of saying no, throwing her drink in your face, or laughing at the size of your penis. and you don't even have to feel bad about being a pervert because the creator initially wanted to market a robot for children. so in a way you're kind of indirectly relating to kids, and not in a way that will get you arrested. double win. she's everything you could ever hope for-- the world's first sex robot, well-designed, technologically sophisticated, and remarkably life-like, down to the terrified and disoriented expression that a real woman like that would give you if you loomed over her sans shiny purple shirt and with your weiner out.

so do yourself, the gene pool, and women everywhere a favor. order your Roxxxy today.