The sunny delight of chili lime powder

The first installment of the KOOL-AID Reeboks have dropped: Grape, cherry, strawberry. Yes they are scented too!!! Just like lil Ms. Shortcake. How old is that Strawberry girl these days anyway? I am thinking about 25!! Shit that's the crazy girl age. isnt it?

Well, the purple ones are quite a fashion statement. It's such an odd collab don't you think. But fuck it's better than teaming up with Sunny D or Tang. Both are color limiting I know. Orange isn't all bad though. How about in the case of carrots.
Carrots coast through life. If they were any color other than orange they'd be extinct by now.

" Hi, I'm a carrot and have a bland nothing flavor, but because I'm attractive and because I'm just about the only orange vegetable that can be eaten in raw form, you keep me in your kitchen. I mock you for you weakness."

"Unleash the power of the sun" Good ol' Sunny f-ing D. How can anyone drink that?
Even as a kid and seeking jout any kind of sugar rush available , I had to pass on the SD. Am I the only one it made throat burn and give an odd hacking cough to?

Sticking with the food related topic. I'm watching Gordon Ramsay shows like crazy lately. I DVR Kitchen Nightmares. I also watch A Cooks Tour, Bourdain No reservations and Last restaurant standing, and of course Ace of Cakes. I watch these shows WHILE I eat.
Is that like watching Porn while you fuck? I think it's wrong to watch porn while you fuck. I see no point in it. In fact I see no point in watching porn with your girl at all. Ive never done it. Making porn with your girl. That makes sense.

Remember when it all made sense?
I am only asking because I do.
Striped socks make sense and plaid ones too.
Sick makes sense.
Waiting doesn't make sense neither does Goodbye.
Writing does and
this sure doesn't
Cool wind and your arms around me from behind.
Cakes and brownies
sticking your tongue out
and me saying the sky is blue and you saying nothing..
nothing is wrong.

It's cool out, even for South Florida. I should take advantage and grill tonight. I planted all these flowers out front of GlowManor, and added some landscape lighting. Things are looking spiffy.

I am wondering if I should change the name of my home from GlowManor to GoodVinterEstate.
I miss my dog lately. and always.

These are the ones I wait for: The only thing I wait for. Lime. Not because it was my favorite flavor but because I could really do with some Lime green color in my life.

that crack in the mirror, the note-book you stole and pillow you left behind

I got afraid of
falling
I got afraid
of
sleeping
I got afraid
of alone

fireworks
and pitbull dogs
don't scare me
love don't scare me
saying it does

drinking
didnt solve for X
C=
numbers and letters
unknown

It's just a name
It's just a soundtrack
It's just
me
slipping
away


There was this time when we were talking about how she would befriend all my heroes. All these people I had admired. Artists, muscians, directors. I thought she might enjoy, what I liked.
So I showed, her, I made her listen. It wasn't to make her remember me. It wasn't planned.
I'd rather we stuck around. I'd rather it be round after round. Rocket ships and battle ships.

Then I would see these artists and such on her myspace list. Comments. Something about being addicted to talent, or attracted or whatever. That's what she said.
I never watched his movies again, I didn't look at the other guys art the same way. Here I was writing a blog that nobody's reads. Just your angels stalking me, how bad am I for you?
How bad could it be. Really. The pieces fit. Come rest your head on my stomach. Come hear the pounding in my chest. Come touch me. I am still warm.

Funny, I can say these things now. I used to like fishing. I used to like driving on the country back-roads and watching thunder-storms from the back of my truck. I used to like Johnny Cash. I'm not saying she ruined them. Just things change. Like it or not. I used to like DisneyWorld and doing it until my fever broke. I used to like it on top. I used to like you. I still do. Only different. only like a dream or like words that write themselves and letters that I never send. Only this time is different. I'm not so afraid. I'm not so alone. I'm not so unsure. you said don't make you wait. you said you were tired. which is it? And how I still don't like Wednesdays.

Hoping it stays just this broken

We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospection.
-Anais Nin

Coke and coke type products were banned from my home as a kid and so to me soda was nectar of the gods. Something one only drank when you went to visit Grandma's. My parents didn't mind the no limit Coca-Cola party there, just so long as I was to be staying with Grandma for the entire weekend. By Sunday night was I wreaked for a week- crashing down to earth in my sugar and caffeine trip. I slept in the car on the way home and had to be carried in. Screw 4th grade. I had now discovered the 2 great joys in life. Coke and masturbation.

Back then it was really Dr. Pepper that was my course of medicine. It seemed to soothe me in ways no other beverage could. Don't get me wrong Yoo Hoo had it's place in my trailer park upbringing as well. I dreamed of jerking off with one hand and sipping a D.P. with the other.
Madness would be if I were to be watching an R- rated movie through the squiggly lines on cable at the same time. ( We didn't get cable until I was 14)

I started cutting lawns when I was 10. I figured if i was old enough to fuck. Which is what I thought I did with the girl down the street. I could start up my own buisness. I tried the lemonade stand thing but, my Mom bitched about me using the card-table. The same table we called "the kids table" during major holidays. There wasn't much money in it anway. Even on the hottest South Florida summer day i was lucky to make 4 dollars. Chump Change.

It didn't take me long to find out it wasn't actually sex I was having with the girl anyway. Fucking, which I called hunching back then was NOT peeing on her while she laid down on top of leaves in the woods?. It took someone much older and wiser than me to set me straight on that. It was my best friends sister. It's where I learned most of the things I knew then about girls and sex. I figured her the expert, being 13 going on 14 and me only 10.
By the way, my friend, he didn't have soda at his house either, but his sister would make us the meanest Kool-aid this side of Belle Glade's Happy Gardens trailer community.

I guess his sister was supposed to watch us, (Their parents were never home) but all she ever did was talk on the phone or have boys come over and then shut herself in her room and play loud rock music. We used to try to listen for them having sex through the wall of his room. We both had drinking glasses to our ears and a hand down our pants. We once saw in the back of a DareDevil comic-book an ad for a SUPER hearing device. We planned on going halves for it once I started making money doing lawns.

If she wasn't on the phone or didnt have a boy over she would hang around us. I liked that. She would ask me all sorts of questions. Things about sex. Did I like listening to her through the wall? If my thing got hard?. How big did it get? I thought it was strange she talked like this in front of her brother, but he didnt seem to care. I mean he was the one always trying to see her naked.

One day I was over there and we were all on a Kool-aid and Tussin high. Totally "tussed" up as she called it. She was always going through her mom's medicine cabinets and taking anything she could find in a bottle. She tried to make us take things too. I never did. I told her I was allergic. Little fucking hypocondraic that I was. I thought I'd probably die. The Kool-aid's sugar content alone made my head spin. We spooned some cough syrup and washed it down with the day-glo liquid. She drank right from the bottle. I liked when she tilted her head back and i could see the muscles and veins in her skinny throat. Things were in slo-motion. I sat closer to her on the sofa, and she started kissing me and then her brother. We were on either side of her and she took her hand and slid it down my pants and started to rub me while her brother played with her boobs. It didn't look like the first time he had done it either. My friend, he goes " Do that thing to him" She smiled and put her face in my lap, pulled my shorts and underwear down passed my thighs and put her mouth on me. Suddenly I was awake and alive and feeling good and feeling sick and and wondering if this was a sin, and wondering if ........
she fell asleep or passed out or something. She stopped. I got up and let her stretch fully out on the couch. Then we both took her clothes off and pet her skin and touched her and looked at girl parts and took turns putting our fingers in some and then out. She was breathing softly and moaning, making little noises.

We never talked about it. I went back to the super awesome sweet Kool-Aid. She went back to her room with boys and loud music and funny smelling stuff coming up from under the door. She went back to the phone and back to teasing me about things I didn't know. Did she know? Does she now?

I did cut the lawns and when I made enough money I bought a fishing pole that I wanted (I still have it). In between I would use some of the money to buy Coke. Ride my bike to the bait n tackle shop a mile or so away and get it in the glass bottle. 10cent return.
At home I would hide it back in the woods. It had been a long time since I had one last. When I finally drank it, it wasnt as sweet as I thought it would be. I went inside my house and took packets of sugar and then went back and added them to the COKE. The weird thing is nothing happened. It doesn't matter how much sugar or aspartame you add to a Coke, it can't get any sweeter than it already is. That's their secret formula. It's not some secret ingredient, it's that they are already supersaturated with sweetners.

Lunch with Dead Presidents

When I get insomnia or anxiety. Both.
I try to sleep or I am sleeping, but I am awake.
something isn't right. I am not sure what it is. I have different ghosts that follow me
like shadows. I have 10,000 I am sorrys to say.
I have a shovel and dug a grave for my regret to heave into.
I stay clear of my enemy remorse and if I stay up for a certain amount of days, a certain amount of hours. They say time heals.
I seem to forgive myself.

I live the same way as you.
In the night I get up and with the same clothes I wore to bed
I head out to the Super Walmart because it is open all night.
Just driving over I start to feel a calm wash over me.
Like going to the Dr. when you are sick. All of a sudden you feel great right before you get there.
At the office you are sitting there. Thinking. I caused this. I should have slept. My back hurts.
It wasnt adverse side-effects from medications. It wasn't acute allergic reaction. It wasn't
that I couldnt breathe or my throat was really closing. It wasn't aids, or bird-flu, I don't have this mysterious cough anymore. How odd. Mind control. Are you losing it?

There are strange people here at this time of night. People like me. There is a comfort we now share. Never really sleeping, Never really awake. Images flicker before you like Fight Club. like bad porn. which used to work but now only makes me sad.

Would I have the strength to fight? Somebody other than myself. The courage to rub myself until I cum. Knowing that void. Knowing that if I called her. If at the right time she would ask me to come over. That she says she knows what I need. And isnt it strange that when I call she to is wide awake.

If I pretend to be sick. If I fake my way through it all. Could I finally get some sleep.
When I was with her. Did she think I was sleeping? Did she think she had fucked me to sleep?

I closed my eyes but I wasnt asleep. Dick still sticky with scent of cunt. sweat dried and heart racing.
I have pills for that now. The racing heart. For the start, the stop. The everything.

But what i need, what I really need is to be walking down aisles under flourescent lights. To get away from here. From you. From her. From me. What I need Is a song without her name attached. My 5 minutes of fame before the flame goes out. New energy. A muse to write for. heart-attacks. Notebooks written in and then stolen. The ability to breathe under water. Her. Under me. Her. over me. The grind. The work. The money. We had meaning. We all have this hope and dread that we aren't really going to die and we are not really going to live.
Notice me. I want to find you and slip away.

Will you fuck (fight) me, if I can't sleep ?

Where Else Can You Go

to get those wonderful T-shirts
with the pocket for your smokes
the pocket for your smokes?

In all colors all sizes
blue and dark blue and light blue
and black and brown green and red
light brown dark red all colors.

Where else can you go
for the blue light the blue light
the blue light specials?

You know what I'm talking about
that place that savings place
you've been there
wandering the aisles dazed.
You have to be in the right mood
to go in. you have to be slow
and happy and sad.

I am buying T-shirts and basketball shoes
I am buying a Hula Hoop and a can of oil
I am buying a travel alarm and an eraser
in the shape of Mr. T's head--oh,
Mr. T where are you now?

Good cheap stuff, don't you love it
cheeseballs and vitamins
a bag of cement a light-up fish

a lightbulb with three speeds
a lightbulb that lasts forever.
It's cotton candy on my tongue--it disappears yet is so sweet
yet is so sickening.

Why did I come here, what did I really need?
I am lonely and it is raining.
I am tired of flossing.
I want to wander these cluttered aisle
still what brought me here
slides off into shoe boxes and dish drainers
into stale bags of caramel corn

and circus peanuts, into disposable lighter,
and sugar free gum. I want to be emptied
emptied of it all, I want to pass through
the checkout counter past the security guard
having mumbled all my sins to the plastic dolls.
I want to be purified by the smells of ammonia
and Colorforms, the taste of junk America
the sweet sweet blues--I hope I can afford it

by: Jim Daniels

Everything is.....

When it comes to love, there are a million theories to explain it. But when it comes to love stories, things are simpler. A love story can never be about full possession. The happy marriage, the requited love, the desire that never dims - these are lucky eventualities, but they aren't love stories. Love stories depend on disappointment, on unequal births and feuding families, on matrimonial boredom and at least one cold heart. Love stories, nearly without exception, give love a bad name.
We value love not because it's stronger than death, but because it's weaker. Say what you want about love: death will finish it. You will not go on loving in the grave, not in any physical way that will at all resemble love as we know it on earth. The perishable nature of love is what gives love its profound importance in our lives. If it were endless, if it were on tap, love wouldn't hit us the way it does.
-Jeffrey Eugenides

Dig down deep or don't bother fucking digging at all

The pictures make the words
cheap
the wine cheapens the lies
and your lips
taste like wine
and
lies
so
as it all comes to me
now

as you haunt my dreams - just like you wanted
as you left my life - is it just how you imagined?

but if i wanted- I could
i could take
her
away from you

swiftly like before
like falcon
like panther
like soldier
like sin
like the whore in the night - meets saint in
motel room

like evil meets light
I believe it
and what you believe is so
so it
is
so I hear her
so I feel her
so I know
this moon is our moon
always

and that night
when I was drowning
when I was deep
when I said
slut
love
fuck
and shit
when I kissed your bruised mouth
and swollen lips

all of our lies
came to life
inside
you

So when you think it could be heart break

i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh . . . . And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you so quite new

-ee cummings

Good Winter, the happiest place on earth ?

Disney is fun, but I've seen couples get into fights right inside the supposed happiest place on earth. The soundtrack: charmingly sweet music being piped in from every direction. Music actually pushes thru from speakers in the land-scaping.
A woman throws an Mickey ice-cream bar at her husband. A push and shove in line at the Rocket Sky-lite refreshment center. Tourists I presume.
The point is...are we safe anywhere? All this rage and anger. Leave it at home. Leave it in a dark place. Don't take it with you. When all I want is a Sandwich at Lake Buena Vista, All I want is a ride on Pirates. Baby, all I want is your fine, your happy, your all day every day.....

The picture up there is Vanessa Ferlito. I first saw her in Sopranos for 2 episodes. I thought she looked like a keeper and she did end up on CSI:NY. It's cool she is one of my people: Italian.

I've only watched one DVD of note this month. It was a documentry: KING OF KONG.
I do highly recommend it if you have interest in classic video arcade games. It's basically about this guy who gets laid off from his job and starts playing an old Donkey Kong game he has set up in his garage. He wants to beat the record High score and the high score is held by another odd ball who set it way back in the 80's when he was teenager. He holds the title for Donkey Kong and a few other classic arcade games. Turns out, He lives down here in South Florida (Where I live). Anyway, the new guy beats the score. But it's disputed and then a whole big thing starts over this Donkey Kong and getting the World Record. I won't tell you more. But, It's good.http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0923752/

A saint is not ashamed of being despised, but saddened to see good counsel spurned. That life be brief does not depress him but avoidable suffering distresses him. He keeps his mind free of vain endeavors and embraces wisdom. By becoming one with the Great Unity the saint avoids the whirlpool of the mundane vanities.

- Wen-tzu

Sugar and Cyanide

Are you ready to be sweet to me? Ever give a Valentine to the most important person in your life? If not, why not? Who was the first to give you one? Who was the first you gave one to? Who was the last?

I got sweaty trying to pick out the right Valentine card for her. Her was the first girl I fell for. She couldn't have cared less. She was pretty. She was popular. I think she got a card from every single boy in class. Everytime I saw this girl my heart went flying over the moon as only a 2nd grade heart in love can do.

I don't know if I imagined this but her hair seemed to always smell of strawberries and sunshine. She had little freckles on her nose. Cassandra. I liked saying her name. It sounded like puppies playing. Like candied hearts and striped socks, ruby slippers, and kitty cat whiskers.

Time to make our exchanges and I watched as she walked over to the most popular boy's desk first. All the other girls followed suit. A line in front of his desk, a line in front of hers.
We had taped brown paper bags on to the edge of our desks and this is where you were to place the envelopes containing the Valentine.
I got to her desk.Bag already bursting with other kids love. I put a candy Valentine heart on top of her desk that said " Be Mine" then quickly shoved my card inside her bag along with the others. It cut the edges. My poem inside ready to win her heart.

Back at my desk. My bag with 1,2,3,4, 5 cards. One was decorated with pretty drawings. My heart skipped. I thought it might be from Cassandra. I ripped into it. I couldn't wait. love BECKY. LOVE Becky? I looked around the room and found Becky huddled with a bunch of girls in the back of the class. She had glasses with tape on them and a school uniform two sizes to big for her. She glanced my way and I half waved with her card in my hand. She smiled.

But my heart was sinking. I hated Valentines day. I decided that I would always hate it from now on until forever.

I went out of class to the water fountain. Cassandra was there. As she bent over to drink, she silently stuck her arm out towards me. In her hand was a small envelope. My soul sang, anticipating what was inside that white square of paper *from her*. Still without a word, she walked away without looking back after I took it.
Trembling, I opened the envelope. Inside was a card with a big color illustration of Scooby Doo on it and a caption below that said something dumb and noncommital like "Hope ya have a grrrrrreat Valentine's Day" Only that. She didn't even sign her name or, dream of dream, write lots of "O's" and "X's" to signify hundreds of hugs and kisses. Nothing.

Girls are not a game. Not one that you can win

Ash Wednesday. Chinese New Year. Take your pick. For me it's ashes ashes
we all fall down.

Cassandra lifted up her plaid skirt behind the oak tree for me. In 4th grade I thought I was given the answers to the universe. For one thing, I knew I would never be a priest.
She waited for me to make my move and then kissed me first. She told me I was a slow lover. I wasn't much of a lover at all.

I am still a better liar than lover. But I am trying.

things changed , like they always do. I'm not worried as much, I don't miss her as much, but I still lose a little sleep. I'm not looking for anything. But I know something will find me.

A really good comic book that ive read for a number of years came to end. Y: The Last Man.
Seems like all my favorite comic, turned graphic novels have ended. Sandman, Preacher and now Y. I am sure you'll see Y ruined as a major motion picture in the future.

My tooth is out. Blood pressure down in a matter of a week. Maybe the meds and a few new books I've been reading. Want to hear my new mantra for the year? Well, not really a mantra, more a philosphy put into practice " Every event that befalls me is absolutely the best possible event that could occur". It's from a Zen - art of happiness book I picked up at the library. Such a lively book coming from such a dreary little place. Books. Lonely like dogs in a rescue. Which reminds me of the Pedigree Dog food commericials that are running recently. They break my heart. I can't tell you how much they tear me open.

What helped get my BP down so the Dr. could finally extract my tooth was this: He gave me a script for some Xanax to take the night before and then an hour before the surgery. Seems I suffer from a little Doctor anxiety. who doesnt? He also gave me the laughing gas while in the chair too. I had my IPOD on and I have to say it turned out to be a delightful experience.

I am lying in bed tonight with no pain for the first time in over a week and half. No more Vicodin, No more fighting the tears back. Just real- sleep. Real dreams.
and my Heart torn apart by commercials with abandoned puppies.

The book works. The thing about everything that happens being the best thing that can possibly happen. It ends up being true.

I don't know where you and I will end up. But wherever it is, It will be for the best. I know that.

Cassandra. Her mouth tasted like Watermelon Bubble Yum. She kissed me cause I was scared to. But I kissed her back hard. Her panties were pink with a white bow in front. She told me not to tell anyone that she showed them to me.

We got ashes on our foreheads. Our school had it's own church. Stained Glass and a Jesus hanging on a cross. For lent I tried to give up touching myself. But that was to difficult so I gave up something else.

On Valentines day. I gave Cassandra the biggest and best card I could find. She didn't even thank me, but I saw her give something to Matt after school while she was waiting for her Mom to pick her up.
If I had a cupcake with a pink heart and rainbows drawn on it, I'd give it to her. She reminded me of sweet. My friend told me." Yeah, sweet evil,"

Nothing else matters when you are in love or when you are in pain.

I have trouble telling from the two.

Until I can barely breathe

Pain. Pain I am beginning to know you well. I am not in to much of it at the moment though.
lying bed. way to late. staring at ceiling. cigarette if I smoked. a kiss, if she were here. where does it start, and when does it end? I did watch the new LOST episode and I am so glad it's back again. Pain. It shoots up all over. I am not sleeping well, I can tell you that. I miss my Dogs fur touching my leg. A pet on the head. Where is my calm, where is my fine.


No breast milk for me.
My mom had me when she was 16, I guess I can understand.

I still can't get my one stupid tooth, way back in mouth taken out yet. Blood pressure still to high. I did see my regular Dr. and I am back on BP meds. (for now). I am hoping I can kill the salt, caffiene and then go off them. Like i did last time. (cause look how it worked so well, hrf) Whatever. I hate taking pills. Half the stuff I get I blame on my anxiety. Funny how when I don't have the anxiety all my problems, health or otherwise seem to vanish.

Ink I had scheduled to do this weekend is now temporarily put on hold. Can't get some sleeve started with infectection and feeling like this.

The tooth thing isn't anxiety, it is really swollen and really need to get out of my head, but the hald a dozen other things I got since this thing went down have been. I don't know about you but when I get any meds here is what I do: go directly the internet and look up the side effects and read reviews of it. That shit will scare you. From there I usually get one, two maybe three of each side-effects. Its a circle of chaos.

Now back the no breast milk thing. My Mom let me sleep with my bottle all night long, every night. Probably even on my tummy. What did a young mother know back in 69? So when I finally went to Denist at age 4 or so my baby teeth were all fucked up. My Mom tells me she was actually yelled at by the Dentist and brought to tears , feeling she had failed as a mother as she drove me and my cavity filled head home she told me she was sorry. At least that what my false memory tells me to write. I do remember going the dentist very often throughout childhood, filling baby teeth cavities only to have them come out not to long after. But my mom felt guilty and after all my baby chicklets were gone she would make me go 3 times a year. Which is why I have very good teeth.

What would it have been like to have tit? Would it have made me better person today?, would I have ended up with this high pressure. Do I blame this all on being a bastard child?

I haven't had any pain in a few days. I am off the drugs for it. I do get up in the middle of the night sometimes and feel like I am dying. Even though I know I am not. I sit around wondering if I should go to the ER so they can laugh at me. Wait for sunlight. I push myelf to make it until the sun is up, because thats when I know everything will be alright. right?

Is this love? Is this heartbreak? Is it because I miss her?
Is it because this is
Winter?

Question;
Who are you killing now?