Sunday, August 31, 2008

the Fighters' History. (3 of ?)

0 Commentaries/Bashings
(my poor eyes.

they should not seem as world-weary as they do already — i am only 26, damn it.)

ninpou: ***shinen na tamashii gyoushi kougeki.***


i hadn't ever seen the sky that colour before; but, late in the evening, yesterday, up until the rather ominous-looking clouds had finally fulfilled its' own prophecy, i was treated to the sight of a Carnation-Violet Sky™.


i was certain that the storm would have been all-the-more tumultuous, consequently..
..but my expectation was disproved; i do not suppose it would have been an especially-pleasurable experience, waiting for The Bus while being subjected to such inclemency, huh...

(there can be no "fun" found in this, even with Umbrella equipped.)


incidentally: today marks the first day since .. some↕time, late last year(♫) that, finally, i had been able to travel through the standard route while on-board the 36 bus-line — i guess because of some Sewer Reconstruction, that bus had to stake a Diversion for many months.


dure my return back home, in the previous week's Wednesday Morning: "that guy" who (, at least from my own perspective anyway, )had not rode on said bus-line, through most of the summer, made his unexpected return {to my world}; which is cool, but... ...might this older, blue-collar, butterscotch-fellow—who possibly may live only a few blocks from me—be shy?

Configuration 1 (spatiality can be reversed):

x ↕ o ↕ o ↕ o ↕ o ↕

(where x represents the seat I am in)

he ... didn't sit in the back, with me(♫); for if, otherwise, he doesn't pay me any mind:

New Configuration:

x ↕ o ↕ o ↕ o ↕ x

or, if he really felt bold and/or cavalier about my existence:

New Configuration (v.2)

x ↕ o ↕ x ↕ o ↕ o ↕




that damn Robin Thicke..


...he did it again fooling me, with his latest "single," into thinking he was a Smooth Black Guy singing.


i suppose mr. timber↕lake (and Eminem, and Vanilla Ice), before him, had lain the path for this...

...i ain't knockin' that mane's hustle: if he has an affinity for Urban Beatz®, then, so-be-it.


"for all that i have ever writ, i am still not quite articulate."

(a 2-part Original Brick↕Layer's Rhyming-combo: +23 Kudos-bonus points; +3 Style Points.)


i had felt what i think was a stronger-than-normal Sexual-type Attraction for Mario Lopez since i had first lain eyes on him in Saved By The Bell; strangely-enough, he never appeared in any of my dreams, that i am aware of, in spite of this distinction.

not that It might matter, anymore, anyway: for, i don't believe, i like him in that way, now: i suppose he has become "too pretty" for my tastes, if i am able to give at least some credence to the pictures of him i've been seeing in magazines, lately.

(too much make-up?


i can certainly testify he'll probably benefit from growing some facial hair!)



what would you do?

i've been doing so much talking at you guys — ´not giving yenz a chance to get even one word in, Edge↕Wise.


(this must be rather distressing for you.)


more people need to come to terms with their Anus.

they need to, for starters, accept that they have one; afterwards, they need to deal with the reality that, yes, this "Anus" usually does finds itself quite in need of constant cleansing.

but there are too many people who are afraid of Ramifications — what the signifigance be, if they happen to derive pleasure from poking around, down there.


me, personally, i don't give an especial-fuck about cleaning my anus; similarly, my anus could not care any less about me.

i scrub outside it; i scrub inside my sphinctoral ring, and also go a bit past that region to where fæxial remnants might try hiding; then i shampoo the sum↕bitch — especially-more-so since i was not blessed with having a smooth arse: for whatever reason, bluntly, The Smell won't go away with just one run-through.

it's a pain, but ... i do, truly, believe That's better than the alternative.


at any rate, it's no big deal for me; out of all the years i've been performing such Personal Maintenance, i might consequently have been incited into masturbating my penis twice, if even that many times: at the moment, i simply do not have an obvious nor a foreseeable psychological-need for stimulating my poop↕chute; if i ever had pressed against my prostate (and i'm pretty sure i have) during the process, nothing came of it.


(i could be lying, slightly, about the trappings of my Anus Relationship.)

apparently i have either a low libido or a Libido which functions in a non-traditional manner.


there is no such thing as Coöperative Anarchy — i.e., a collection of people working together to establish this state-of-being; anarchy, by its very definition, is That which must be individualistic — self-serving.

(perhaps, at most, a pursuer of This might have just one other person helping to get It realized.)

real anarchists are people you never hear anything from — ´just to let you know.


at this point, i cannot say i feel especially sorry for all those people who were compelled to evacuate the areas which are in the Current Hurricane's Path.

time-and-again, Mother Nature fucks with that part of the south; insurance companies long ago gave up, there.

maybe you really should consider staying the fuck away: there's Tenacity — and there's Stupidity, see.

(and egotistical-Stupidity, at that.)

some.. ..places just were not meant to be inhabited, y'know?

(♫) (the latter of Autumn, was it?)

(♫) most of you won't realize this [consciously] but, yeah, the context of that statement would be significantly, quite, different if i hadn't included the Pausing Comma where i had.

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