whatever , it is snowing now .

The snow , the snow . The snow . Snow snow snow snow snow . Snow .
Snow is a funny word , now that i look at it . All alone . Look at it ... alone :


snow


Who comes up with these words !???

Experimenting with Roman Numerals Day XXIX

. be warned , this post is a vast continuation beyond the realm of the previous post , and it is much more frightening . If you are afraid of worms or the color yellow then perhaps you ought to cower now .

As i was saying , the humongous mechanical thing was odding me out , and i thought i might join the Ghostie under his tree and point too . Perhaps its pointing was a defense mechanism , but i couldn't think how it would help , nor did i want to be within spitting distance of a Ghostie ; it is rumoured that their spit is globular and can cause slime to accumulate

I turned tail and ran .

Apparently the government was alerted to the situation , because over the next hill i fathomed a battalion of flotilla , dune flotilla , accompanied by heliocopitors and stray u-fos . They were aircraft carrying worm trawlers that trudged via treads over the plains and dunes and tree-lined avenues and they waved huge metallic cannon guns and felt out the oppression with air feelers and ravaged the farmer's crop for its fuel guzzling coffers .

Being between the raging worm trawlers and the floating hell-machine was maybe the craziest thing i had ever done , and not consciously done : my brain was contused ; drugs were in order . I looked about for a way out , maybe a hole to fall in to , or a ditch to convalesce in and ride out the storm . I relished not the flying armaments and the flotsam it would inevitably havoc on my body ... i wished my pieces to remain in intimate conjunction to one another.

The worm fleet neared , it was cresting and the other-worldly gargantuan -gadget -dripping- floater approached from my rear, borne by the wind ; i saw gun-toting saucers exiting through a rear sphincter and begin their circling maneuvers .

I tripped maniacally awash in afear , and so i stumbled . As i fell i saw it before my eyes ; a door .

The door was covered , thick with vegetation and mildew , and who could know what horrors lay beyond its rotting jams . No way out , because the guns dipped and steam whispered out from their maws . The saucers spun and coalesced into tight vees then swept forward in formation attacking the land-crushing worm army . I pulled at the weeds frantically and tugged at the door handle ; it was rusty and slimy wet and my fingers could find no purchase .

It was doom awaited me ... doom , but the hinges complained and the ancient crust that held the door gave way just as the hell-machine dove and let loose its thunder at the earth .

i fell into the hole i'd made , and the door slammed shut behind me .

Adventures in the Land of the Hobos .

I was warned of the Ghosties , but the day was so gloriously bright , and the leaves jumped green from their stiff , playful stems that i forgot the threat . Nay , i refused to heed anything of dearth , of darkness , of regret . Instead i documented the flutterbyes , the way of the skeletal monoliths and their sensory appendages , how they swayed with the wind , borne on the westward follies . The happy Hobos played their games , nevermindful of the ever present alien warships and their inefficient death rays . All of this and the root-tube melodies lulled me into a pleasent lethargy ... until the Ghostie spoke -- and pointed to the sky :

...the thing came over the horizon , was it a dream ? First I thought it might be a storm , some sort of cloud formation blowing in from the west . But then i realized it was a demon , some tragic mechanical sprung from the endless void and dripping machined fragments from its tubes , the vapor receptacles that dangled clanking from the Gargantua's undercarriage . Flotsam spewed from spring-loaded cannons at its summit and the displaced air was hazy and distorted where waste heat exited the exhaust and pushed the hellish contrivance overhead .

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TO BE CONTINUED .

Experimenting with Roman Numerals Day XXeight

I was out walking and found myself way out by the gigantic big Happy Birthday sign on Marvelous Bob's Hill last week . You know , the hill where Bob rolled the Guiness record ? He was contused for a month . They named a hill after him and on his birthday erected a huge sign kind of like the Hollywood sign , only smaller . There was a lot of activity going down as i wandered there so i took out an old card i had in my pocket and sat down and sketched this scene , right down to the aliens that were hiding behind trees to the guys in the hazmat suits . I like Bob's Hill , especially all the plastic bushes and fake flowers ... it is a place you can enjoy ALL YEAR LONG ! Even the astro turf is green ... and there are sun lamps . You should see it ; give the county notice and they'll clear out all the bums for a couple hours .Enjoy .

Experimenting with Roman Numerals Day ex-ex-vee-i-i

Hens & Chicks; Chicks & pennys; Oh-- on a Rock ! YES: I AM A CAMERA !!! (YES< YES) This Brit penny is now worth 12 American dollars...yesterday i stopped at speedway and filled my tank with just this one Bristish penny--because it's value doubled 6 times in an hour--AND i topped off some guy's SUV who i didn't even know !!! It was incredible--if you have any of these British pennys then don't accidently spend them at walmart or ditch them at cracker barrel as a tip (like i know you used to do with all those Canadian dimes !) because these British pennys are gold. The penny above it, you know ol' honest Abe, that penny costs more then 3 dollars to produce and is worth about as much as dryer lint--at least with dryer lint you can collect it and knit it into a blanket to keep you warm this winter in your cardboard box. If you move your box into the landfill the rising gasses provide a minimum of warmth, so the lint blankie is a sound choice...or a nice red lint-sweater is good too, and stylish. By the way, these hens&chicks can grow to the size of volkswagons with a lot of ozoneless gamma rays and the right amount of toxic fertilizer and they make excellant windstops for your box, or boxes if you had an addition put together with weather proof duct tape. I like the colored stuff...camaflouge is good--helps to confuse the hobos. This Just in, some Middle Eastern zillionaire just traded in all his british pennies for onehundredbillionSusanBAnthonyDollars which lost half their value after he stopped to tie his shoelaces and then he bought SouthDakota and turned it into a SuperKmart/GoCart tracklotionOnYourKneesUnderAFantasticTreeSucculantPerenial/SushiBar/
OffTrackCamelRaceParlor/DiscountTeaHouse/DiscountCigaretteBurnYourUpholstryFunhouse/
FlipFlopsAreGreat/PoliticianGetAwayStripperClub/BowlingAlley&HotWings&StylishShoeMart/
ShoePhoneOutlet/OhNeverMindThisIsGettingStupid!!!!!!!


...one more wasted page, a near empty sheet ripped from the machines sanguine grip and crudely ovined, discarded to the circular file...
















Once, in his youth, when the days seemed longer and life hadn't begun to pull at the worn treads of his trademark loafers, Edgar bummed a pickle.

Experimenting with Roman Numerals Day XXvI

The Mysteries of Life explained , in code :

I have kindof blindly cruised through the Blogland and found that most Bloggers in the land of Blog are foreign speaking , that is speaking a different language other then English , or twelve . I have no ability in reading anything except English , and also I am not twelve . Therefore I have decided that other Bloggers in Blogland hold no interest for me . I am alone . Of course , that means that the other-than-English-speaking-Bloggers and the twelve year olds have no interest in me , too . Either , also and for-too-so .
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Whew , I am relieved ; now I can just blog on and on about stuff that I have always longed to , and not keep forcing myself to write only what I thought other Bloggers wanted to hear . This , because I now know nobody is reading this : the twelve year olds could care less and the other-than-English-speakers cannot read it anyway . To them it looks like this : 90833588#%%2537897&*&(?:LLKOug9jifjii woof woof duck , turtle.
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First in my arsenal is the fact that I have trouble reading tea leaves . I drink a lot of tea , so of course I think I should really be good at this . It would be great to start the day off with a cup of tea and then know what will happen for the remainder of the day . Like : watch out , there is a box that will fall off onto your head , so be sure to look up . Or : that lady who drives you bonkers will do it again today ; you should just turn around and go the other way . And : ho-hum ; it will be boring from around 10:30 to 11:45 so maybe sharpen your pencil and do a crossword . A 5 letter word for cavort is frisk .
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I am starting to experiment with the tea reading . It is sort of difficult , because I prefer Lipton tea . Not many leaves . At first I tried Maple leaves from the yard . Then I just dunked some Frosted Flakes from my bowl into my teacup . That was sort of messy , but tasted better than the Maple leaves . Have I peeked the interest of any twelve year olds yet ?
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I have decided against reading tea leaves . Of course , it was a success , but in retrospect , knowing that you will fill out multiple reports and receive several venders and post bills and log this and log that and order a couple of these and some of those just isn’t the sort of thing a person wants to think about at 4:30 in the morning over a cup of mushy tea . I prefer sitting in my socks and moaning for a few minutes . Ahhhhhhhhgggg . Uhhhhhhhhhhg . Blluubbbbblubuh blublabuhb . Zzzzzzzzzzz .
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So far this is the most accurate account I have blogged of my life , and it is all because I have stopped writing for the masses and instead for only myself : the only person in Blogland who is reading this . So there , all you plfff wobum speakers and twelve-sies . Goodnight , and good luck .
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Who said that ?

Experimenting with Roman Numerals Day XXFive

This afternoon's daily rant of the hour ( disregard if you have had your own rant in mind ; however if you are in the mood for a daily up-to-date rant , but don't want to think of your own , then feel free to consider this one ) .

Today , as it snows ( see snow , below ) I contemplate a heroic tale . I am making this up as I go , be warned . The world needs a new hero , a super duper hero , someone like Batman or Aquaman who has the people’s best interests at heart . Someone , or something , who isn’t in it for the money or fame or even the plush surroundings of a comfortable lifestyle . Someone who doesn’t live life around fun or wine or women ( or men or insects ) or what’s on the telly tonite or who’s going to the super bowl . We need a hero devoted to our values and our lifestyle and committed to putting a fuel efficient automobile in every one’s driveway or garage or alley or curb or underground parking lot . Yes , we need Bill , or Warren or any other number of super rich gazzillionaires to step up to the plate and give every man women and child a handout . Because we know the government is too intent on giving away all of our tax money to the richest people in America who have already had a chance to spend their money wisely and consider the future , but who instead decided to line their pockets and get theirs while the getting was good .

Now , you’ll see , it is the hardest working people who will suffer while these fat-cats hoard all the money and buy up the best of what we’ve got to make themselves richer and fatter .

Now , on a lighter note , wouldn’t it be nice if we could also all have ice cream ? And fried chicken ? And mashed potatoes ? Every professional athlete making more then one million dollars a year should buy food and snacks for a designated community as often as possible instead of wasting their salaries ( getting paid millions to play a game ? ) on guns and strippers . There are people out there who had to actually pay for their education who are not making anywhere near a million dollars a year . Can you say 30,000 , or 20,000 , or less ? Geez Louise ! How do they afford T bones and caviar on that sort of green ? Some of them can barely feed their children , let alone 6 dozen mistresses and a colony of bodyguards and childhood friends all driving large black SUVs .
Isn’t the snow pretty ?