I ate you.

"After"

I will eat you

This is a "before" photo. Tomorrow morning, I will post the "after" photo.

Have a wonderful day.

The Coast is Not Clear

I hate fog. But especially when it parks itself along the coast and refuses to go anywhere for several hours. It does not make for the most enjoyable surfing conditions. It's like having a tall, fat man sit in front of you at the movies.  If I could have magical powers, I would control the weather and use my powers purely for my own benefit. But the world would probably end after the fist day of my reign. Trade-offs.

Autumnal ruminations

Each successive day is roughly two minutes shorter than the last, which means the post-work surfs will soon be coming to an end. Nevertheless, there is still time to beat the sun before it retires and enough light when I arrive at my destination to squeeze in those magical Civil Twilight Sessions.

Meditation #1

I thought you would be interested to know that I started meditation today. Or rather, I made an attempt at meditation…you see, I am what the Zen masters refer to as a kook.


For ten minutes (I had a timer) I sat in silence. For the duration of those minutes, I attempted to concentrate on my breathing, but found myself focusing on the pain in my lower back and neck, then on keeping my eyes closed, then on making plans for the day (including, how I should incorporate my attempts at meditation on the blog that I don’t update enough). Then I focused on my breathing again and its erratic nature. I said a few prayers of thanks because I am ecumenical. I peeked at myself several times in the mirror and remarked in my mind how serene I looked, sitting cross-legged on the floor…posing, like a poser.

The Bichon Frise

 

The Bichon Frise literally means "Curly lap dog," but in reality they are thoroughly evil minions of Satan. Should you ever encounter one in person, it's best to not to make eye contact. And you certainly shouldn't invite one into your personal space. When Goethe wrote Faust, I'm pretty sure he intended that Mephistopheles disguised himself as a Bichon Frise, and not a "poodle" as some translators have suggested.

Chillin'

koi are nice people

I find koi to be polite and thoughtful. I always enjoy an opportunity to spend some time with them.

:)

.

What day is it?

From time to time, I experience a little confusion and disorientation upon waking. This morning, for example, I thought it was Saturday. The little bit of joy that I felt for being able to sleep in was quickly replaced by the sad realization that my work week has not yet ended.


Fuck my life.

Bowel Movement #5 in F minor

My body will typically commence its bowel movement within 20 minutes of waking. It has its reasons. Well, the other day I decided to head into work really early without first taking care of business. My body did not appreciate this change in plans and expressed its displeasure in the form of early labor. The world, too, conspired against me with unusually heavy traffic and red lights. I did not end up soiling myself in traffic, although I know you wish I had.

It was a small victory for Mind, even though I know the Body will win in the long run.

Bob Lob Law

Say it to yourself.

iAm not a genius, so iTunes does the work for me.

Happy Independence Day

Hello and welcome to the Independence Day edition of A Magical and Wondrous Blog. Please feel free to enjoy the music playing in the background as you reflect on what it means to be an American citizen. Additionally, I invite you to make yourselves comfortable and safe within the confines of your underground bunkers as you await alien invasion.

It is only a matter of time before we are all made into slaves and eaten alive by an alien race of giant insects.

The King of Pop has ceased to be.

A Magical and Wondrous Painting

Going left?

Fatness

The fat man zipped past me in the supermarket the other day (not the gentlemen in the picture above).

The agility with which he handled his scooter--going in and out of aisles, moving around the other customers, negotiating turns and so on--both amazed and saddened me. I wondered at what point he decided for himself that walking was just too much of a hassle. Then I wondered how he bathed himself and if he made sure to clean between the folds of skin.

Sometimes I feel like keeling myself

San Diego, California

Weee!

I realized something important today.

I'm most at ease inside the ocean.

Is surfing evil or the cure to all evil?

"I have discovered that all human evil comes from this, man's being unable to sit still and quiet in a room alone."--Blaise Pascal

My Morning Shower

This morning in the shower, I simultaneously tripped out over the word "shampoo" and urinated down the drain. I know, it's both fascinating and repulsive.

Weird Fishes

What I really want in life.

I've decided that I want a miniature horse. I don't know why I've recently decided this or why my mind even wandered to that part of the zoo, but in any case this is now the object of my desire. I would name my miniature horse Ruby.

I would keep Ruby strictly indoors because that's where she would be safe from thieves and other animals. Plus, she would keep me company as I watched television or while I was enjoying a book. I would communicate to Ruby my affection by rubbing her muzzle and keeping a vast array of small treats for her to nibble on.

On occasion, I would take Ruby outside for walks around the neighborhood--but only if it were suitably quiet, which usually meant in the evenings or very early mornings when nobody was around. We would walk slowly together and take in the fresh air. Ruby would usually be on my right. Sometimes she would forge ahead on her own, but for the most part she would prefer to be by my side.

Existential Threat

Sorry I haven't posted in awhile, but I've been bunkered down within the confines of my soul worried about my existence. (My soul is like a cramped, windowless studio apartment with beer and wine bottles strewn about.) I believe every [thinking] person suffers from time to time, what the existential philosophers referred to as "angst" or "dread" or "despair." Surely you've felt as though your life were hanging over an endless abyss of Nothingness? Maybe you've tweeted about it. But with every moment of dread, it is hoped that there comes a moment of decision. Of action. Of responsibiltiy. It need not be high falutent. It could be as mundane as deciding to update your blog.

The Saddest Month

May is a sad month. It fills me with an inexplicable melancholy. That is all I have to say about that.

The Dregs

The other day I was waiting for the light to change when I made eye contact with the beggar. Many people find ways to avoid looking at beggars. Sending text messages is a popular method. Perhaps a quick tweet.

But I eagerly wait to make eye contact with the beggars because I have nothing else to do. On this particular occasion the beggar came right up to my window. Her eyes were beaming and she was excited because she knew the surf had come up. She might have been drunk. "Surf was, gooooood, huh?" I was admittedly startled at first, but I ended up giving her a quick rundown my session: wave quality, water temperature, crowd vibe, where the sandbar was working--all the necessary info I'd give to a surfer thinking about paddling out... as though she should drop her sign, give up her post at the intersection and catch a few waves. She took it all in with apparent interest and delight. I think we bonded.

It only occurred to me after the light had changed, that I should have given her some money.

Mother

Hey! Look at me!

I can see how blogging can be addicting. You post some random things, and friends and strangers stop by and actually read what you have to say. How fascinating! How novel! Sometimes they leave encouraging comments. Sometimes they leave bitter comments. But mostly it's just nice to keep a public record of your life for future generations and/or aliens invaders. It's perfect for narcissistic attention whores such as myself.

Personally I think of my blog as a Magical and Wondrous toilet, where I can go to empty the fecal material of my brain. Or as a respite from the infamous erBB, where great minds go to wither away into political caricatures.

I'm pregnant!

I have nothing special to blog about today other than the fact that I think I might be pregnant. I've been feeling a bit of the morning sickness lately and I haven't had a period in forever, so clearly it must be the case that I'm carrying a small bundle of joy within me.

I have not yet decided what I'll name my baby. Nor have I given much thought to the prospect of being a single parent in a post 9/11 landscape. Not to mention the struggling economy. I have so many questions and concerns. Breath slowly. Take it one step at a time.

I think I may join a support group for pregnant, single men.

De Profundis

"I am the ultimate phase of the poetic temper on the way to becoming a sort of reformer on a small scale..."

Not really. In fact, more likely the converse: a little maggot hoping one day to become a fly.

Are maggots able to lead a poetic existence?

Moving along, it occurred to me this morning while walking to work that there are two kinds of people: meter maids and poets. The meter maids of the world live a life of rules and efficiency. They move swiftly among us, enforcing their code, making sure our wheels are cramped toward the curb, checking our registration stickers, occasionally measuring the distance between our tires and the curb. I am a meter maid, but don't take my job all that seriously.

The poets, on the other hand, live their lives amassing citations. Hundreds of little yellow envelopes accumulate on their windshield until one day their cars are towed away.

Lunch

There is something in my manner that makes people uneasy. For example at lunch today, the waitress came by the table to check if I needed anything. I looked up from my book and shook my head. She smiled and I smiled back, but before she turned away--and for only a split second, which however brief, seemed eternal--I detected in her countenance sheer and utter terror. It was as though she peered directly within my soul and was frightened of what she saw.

For dessert I had a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

I just finished a bath

It's important to feel clean from time to time. How long before I get bored of blogging? I will continue out of self-hate and spite, oh yes.

The Pensive Pigeon

Where do you find your inspiration?

I want to blog your brains out.