Buckminster Skeeter: Wanna buy a watch?

Tuesday, May 30, 2006

Find the point - Win a Peace Sells But Who's Buying painted Mirror

My favorite food lately is chease. That's my new word for the substance that appears on burgers, sandwiches, tacos and such that occurs when cheese and grease combine. It soo good. Then again it will probably kill me. Kill me good. So I went to the gym today to make sure I work off some of that chease and other shit I've thrown down my gullet lately. I'm usually pretty healthy. Well, not really. In shape maybe, but not really healthy. Why would anyone not want to be healthy? Health is a good thing according to most doctors and experts in various fields. Everyone knows this too. Ask anyone if smoking is good for you, health wise. Most people will say "of course not" but they can probably put up a good argument that it is very good for you in the realm of pleasure. Is stamp collecting good for me? Maybe it is if it provides me with some sort of fulfillment or self satisfaction. I wonder why Mick Jagger couldn't get no satisfaction. He had money, girls, drugs, rock-n-roll, and so on. Surely there must have been a time, even a short time, when he got some satisfaction. Earlier today I got some satisfaction. Hopefully tomorrow will bring some my way as well. Speaking of which I completely forgot to do something, but I can't remember what it is. I hate that feeling. There's a part of your brain that's sole purpose is to stash away things you are supposed to do and keep them just 2 neuron clicks always from being found. Every few moments it will send out a little teaser thought that 'hey, I think I remember what it is I'm forgetting' - then it's gone. A tease. An evil brain process put there by our creator to remind us that we ain't all that and a bag of chips. I pity the person who came up with that phrase. Is life so dull and unfulfilling for them that somehow a bag of chips, when added to their sum being, creates the pinnacle of humanity? How about all that and the ability to shit gold. I'd rather be that than a bag of chips. I'd even settle for all that and new Penn 4400 Gold Series reel to replace the one the rusted because I forgot to rinse it with clean water this weekend after fishing in salt water. Oh yeah, that's what I forgot. Son of a Bitch. The neuron slipped and let loose it's prize. I'll just take this as a minor victory. Man vs. Neural synapses. Man 1, neural synapses 140,324,545,222,069,111. I plan on being even by September 16th, 2056. That's the day I have selected to die. It'll make me 84. By then I will have done all the things I need to in this world. Leave a genetic slug trail, see Tienenman Square, and take a shit in an igloo. What do Eskimos wipe their asses with anyway. That's something I need to know. Maybe they use seal skins. That's why all those seals get clubbed - it's not really for luxury furs - it's Eskimo Charmin. How is it that every Eskimo, when they reach a reasonable age, doesn't say - "Fuck this cold shit man, I'm going to the city and getting a job at Burger King."? I guess they are proud of their ancestry. They have that right, you know. Back off the Eskimos, they're good people. I think. I don't know shit about Eskimos come to think of it. I'd probably like them folks. I enjoy fishing and using spears of various construct. Maybe they can teach me how to skin a Polar Bear. Which, by the way, is purportedly a messy business. I wouldn't do it in a fancy city suit. My suits are of very nice quality and fit me well. Yet I cannot help but feel like a greedy prick every time I don one. There's something about a suit that I have never liked - maybe it was the popularity of the epithet "suit" back in the day to describe all those suited government and business guys who didn't fit my mold of "fuck the man, anarchy, and blah blah blah". But then again that's when I was a dumb fuck teenager. Now I am the suit, I am the man. I shall have to protest myself.

3 Comments:

Blogger mugwump said...

I can't find the point, but this highly entertaining piece is reminiscent of conversations I've had with a youngster completely devoid of his faculties.

5:30 AM  
Blogger Dr. Metal said...

You're killing me, man. You're like a volcano of creativity. You lie dormant for weeks on end and then. . . well you get the point.

And come to think of it, scratch that. You're still a wortheless piece of. . . well you get the point.

6:59 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

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5:55 PM  

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