By Nous

		      June 9, 2005


JUNE7, 10:49am -- THE SENTENCE DRAWS TO A CLOSE

BALL to SOIL, in four moves

BALL
fall
fail
foil
SOIL

Today in the garden as I pulled up the weeds, I found a
tennis ball buried in the soil.  The bright green color
had faded into a yellowish brown, almost golden. In the
back of my mind I thought, "Amanita muscaria," but that
is found only among certain trees after the rains come,
and only in certain times of the year.
What I had found then was nothing but an ordinary tennis
ball in perfect condition. Besides being a little moist
it was just right for playing tennis with, so I decided
that morning to take up the sport.

-- from the diary of David Ascott

FACE to ROSE, in six moves (there has to be a faster way)

FACE
fake
sake
sale
sole
role
ROSE

In the long mirror in the hall I saw my face reflected
as a rose.  Stepping closer I realized that it was not
I who was reflected in the mirror. Rather something on
the other side was showing itself to me.
I felt years fall away from me, as if I were layers of
a person.  And soon I stood there staring at myself in
the mirror, and I had suddenly aged decades. But I was
not prepared for the burden.

-- from the diary of Bronwen Bryn-Davies

11:17am -- NeckDonalds

The reNT MONEY IS GONE.  IT is AS CHARLIE SAID SOMEWHERE
In oWEN'S HOUSE. WE MUST HAVE IT BY THE END OF THE monTH
BECAUSE Fey WILL inSTIGATE A mINOR MUTINy AGAINST US.
wallPAPER SANDWICH etIQUETTE.

11:21am -- A Haiku for Your Analysis

My condom just broke
Somewhere in your vagina
An STD grows

Another:

I cut my fingers
With the scissors I once used
To pull out your eyes

Another:

Mary's realized
That no one can understand
How much I love her

JUNE9, 1:08pm -- Old n Oral

Perhaps I should start off by saying that the brownies
came out bad. I assumed that the batch would be botched
because I have no baking experience.
Batch. Botch.
I am Punny ^-^
I am puny, so I've been exercising. Jogging, mainly, but
lately I've also been waking up and stretching just to
begin the day. Yes, I know. That will not make me beefy
and strong like the guys in comic books, but let me say
that I speak in cliches and it's a start and no pain, no
gain, right?
So anyway, Sloth arrives at my house WAAAAY late. So I
say, "We certainly are late today, aren't we?"  I gave
him a tardy slip and sent him to get two pops from Coach
Bass.
He probably doesn't remember that.
You guys from Seattle (Kelly, I'm talking to you). When
I say "pop," I don't mean soda. I mean that Coach Bass
made Sloth put his hands on the pop machine, bent over
slightly (he's always going on with his kowtow), and
handed his ass to him with a wooden paddle, while taking
his ass from him with the same paddle.
Twice.
Anyway, to make a long story short, the power of the
paddling was so strong that two pops -- er, sodas --
popped right out of the pop machine and Coke Bass handed
both Sloth's ass and the two sodas to Sloth. He promptly
brought them to me and returned the tardy slip, on which
I'd written, "Two sodas for me and Sloth, Bassy Boy."
The means by which the coach acquires the sodas is quite
controversial, especially in New York where the students
are whiny bitches.
That's right, New York. I'm calling you out.
Anyway, to make the longer brownie story short, it ended
up having too much butter and eggs and pretty much all
the stuff we did was a little wrong. The result was a
slightly burnt, brown bread that was too moist and had
an odor like chicharrones.
Oh, yeah. If I didn't mention it before, I made brownies
with Sloth yesterday. They didn't come out very good.

1:22pm -- Antiquing

Who cares if it wasn't that funny and if Ben Kennedy
laughs at dumb shit. Why won't you repeat your horribly
unfunny joke that wasn't a joke but just basically
something a curmudgeon would say?
There is no reason.
There is no reason for not saying something, especially
when the other person knows it's going to be horrible
and wants to hear it anyway.  Nothing lost; nothing
gained. It's like most of what we do in life. So just
say it.
And that salsa was pretty good, but the Donkey Kong
album was better.

5:29pm -- Epic Epic

Unimpressive omnivore
All your paintings are a bore
Precious polygamic lore
Dinosaur
Rite of war

Analog Caligulii
Rare, significant July
Indescribably you fly
Cellulite
Held you tight

5:44pm -- Anderson (Naw Meen?)

Tomorrow Hailey has a dance thing. Sometime around three
or four her family is taking off to go see her perform,
and I am invited. I had assumed it would be later in the
evening when I heard about it last week, but either way
is fine, I guess.
That's going to be sort of weird. I mean, tomorrow's the
last day before I leave for Iowa, and I'm spending it with
the Gowans. But they're a comfortable bunch, I guess. I
like them.
That aside, I got a haircut today from an Asian woman,
and somehow she made my hair look really Japanese. It was
still thick but thinner, too. It seriously looked like
anime hair all day today, even after I took a shower.
That aside, I haven't picked up my violin in five days,
though I swore to myself that I would begin playing it
more. I just need new music. And Kelly's skill.
Also, I want to wish you all a very happy unbirthday.
And if it's not your unbirthday, a birthday is just as
good. I don't care what the Mad Hatter says. I'm the mad
one around here. Plus, I have an ever-growing collection
of hats. And like William Corgan Jr., I drink mercury to
The Mystery of all that I consistently leave behind, though
it begs me to carry it home.
I don't have the strength, Dorothy, to carry you anywhere
anymore. Anyway, you need to learn to pick yourself up
sometime, am I right?
You can't be like that whale that, once created in the
instability of open space, fell continuously to his death
all the while believing he was being born then and there.
Life is life, My Whale. Not birth and certainly not death.
Hardly anything between the two and practically none of
that which is contained within the external.
Oh, Whale of Mine.  Reach out and touch.  But don't go
believing that touch is Life.  Don't go believing that
Seeing is Believing.  And don't go believing that you
belong here. But I digress.
Though I never had a real point to begin with.
Wait, yes I did.
I want the best for all of you.
It's not necessarily important that I mean that, don't
you agree? Just as long as I want to mean it? Although
that, I think, makes it sound sort of self-pitying. So
all selfishness aside, if you want me to do something for
you, just ask, and I will do what I can. I hesitate to
say "all" I can, but maybe I should say it anyway.
Consider it said then, My Little Whale. The word itself
frightens me.

Forever Yours,
Nousy