THIS IS A READ-ONLY ARCHIVE FROM THE SORABJI.COM MESSAGE BOARDS (1995-2016). |
---|
eat me slice me in half with your bitter sharp touching words my flesh will quiver and seperate only my wooden rough pit resisting but you'll win prying my insides out peel off my skin with your teeth suck the juice from my veins licking your lips masticate i will stroke your throat all the way down |
|
|
|
|
it's mine. do you like it? i once did a similar poem about toothpaste. |
|
?????????????????? i'm sure there's some sick joke connected to this. of course, depending on how you're reading the poem, it can be pretty sick. still, what does the "four finger" have to do with me? |
|
in hawaii we have one finger, two finger, three finger, and four finger poi. depends on how thick it is. i made southern style corn bread today. even baked it in a cast iron skillet. brought half of it to the gym tonight to give to Lavernis. Lavernis is the one who hooked me up with Lonny, my trainer. and now i'm On The Bulletin Board at the gym. photos of me from two years ago, one year ago, six months ago, three months ago [taken two days before i started the program with Lonny], and one recent shot. it'll be interesting to see what my body shape will look like next, maybe by December. yesterday was my first day back at the gym since surgery. i was a little tired, taking it slow. Lavernis saw me and asked me how i was doing. i told him i wished i had the genes of a big black man, like you, or Terrel Davis. he flirted with me and said, you want to look like a black man or you want a black man? both, i answered. today the corn bread was still warm when he tasted it. indeed, food is erotic. and so now i have a date tomorrow night with a big beautiful black bodybuilder, who is sweet and smart and charming. it's a dream come true, i can barely comprehend it. we're going to take his two pitbulls Thor and Titan to the beach and then i'm going to cook him dinner. this is so cool. |
nasty bull semen shit. |
do you want an actual population count? i couldn't tell you. my housemate Zavi loves the stuff. i like some of it. lots of hawaiians eat it, and it's sold in nearly every grocery store in the state. someone out there is definitely eating poi. |
|
reactions were skewed. but it was all a setup. brain was asking me if he (jon) called me at work. no. i wish. jon's a funny, intelligent guy. not to mention he's scruffy-cute and sensitive. i hugged him a couple of times and he hugged me a couple of times but it was casual. i was scared. |
listening to Ben Fold's Five isn't helping any. |
Although, I guess since I use the bathroom as my alone place, people can only draw one conclusion when I abruptly get up and go into the bathroom ey? Maybe I should choose a new hiding place. |
don't know *what* he was thinking. not as if he could avoid me, since we see each other at the gym nearly every day. this morning when he saw me, i could tell by the look on his face that he simply just forgot to call. once again, i'm all excited to hang out with a cool guy and i'm not even on his radar. makes me wonder why he was so blazenly flirtatious with me last week. he gave me some excuse and apologized, and i told him it was ok. he begged me to give him another chance. i was skeptical and asked him if he really did want to hang out with me, because if he didn't, just say so, it's cool. we could still just be good gym buddies. he said, no, silly, i do want to hang out. yeah yeah ok, so give me a call whatever here's my cell number just in case i'm off around 7 p.m., but call me in a couple hours and we'll figure something out, smooch smooch, sorry, yeah, ok, talk to you later. note to self: Grain Of Salt. gut instinct: earnest guy, but a player. possible narcissist. approach: watch my back. might be better to just be friends. i need a nap. |
anyway, sometimes people just forget to call. i forgot to call on friday night. saturday morning brought some of the most abusive bile ever spat on voicemail. at least my voicemail, anyway. i'm thinking of converting it to real audio and posting the file to my torturechamber space. it's pure comedy. |
anyway, sometimes people just forget to call. i forgot to call on friday night. saturday morning brought some of the most abusive bile ever spat on voicemail. at least my voicemail, anyway. i'm thinking of converting it to real audio and posting the file to my torturechamber space. it's pure comedy. |
|
"hello?" "hello. is jon there?" "(omigosh! it's a girl! is he here?)" "(no.)" "no, he's not here." "well, could you tell him that lauren called?" "sure." "thanks. bye." "bye." called harms. "hello?" "is that you, harmony?" "oh, hi lauren! could i get back to you?" (elevator muzak) "hi. we're really busy right now so i'll just say this little bit. we talked to jon and he'll be back tuesday." "oh. ok. have fun." "bye." "bye." great. just great. i don't get back 'till wednesday, then it's straight to work. whoohoo! |
so yeah. he's a good guy. sometimes good guys forget, i realize that. all i know is he made good on his promise today and he called and he's picking me up and we're going out and we'll see how it goes. he's been a good friend since we met back in February. we hit it off right away, had an instant comfortable rapport. but still... gotta watch my back, be careful of my heart. it only means that i really like him and i care. and shit, if i didn't like him, i wouldn't even be writing any of this. but i'm probably not worthy of him. honestly, i was totally blindsided by his interest in me at all. never would have thought i'd be anywhere close to his league. just goes to show he really must be a nice guy. and yeah, i'll try my hardest not to, to remember my hard-learned lessons, but i'll probably fuck it up somehow. in some new way. seems i always find a new way to fuck things up. |
actually, now that i think about it, i may very well be a pathological narcissist. but i'm still a good person. i'm kind to children and animals and elderly people. i recycle. and i make mean cornbread. i, i, i, i, i, i. memememememememeeeee. |
*warning*warning*warning*warning* this person is self-absorbed. it happens. i wonder where jon is? |
|
check your head. |
|
that's the problem with being delusional. |
i choose to start eating ground turkey and variosu turkey cutlets in place of red meat. I made this decison sometime ago. I like it, its good. But damn if it doesn't make me the gaseous boy around. Im not sure the trade off is worth. Last night i went t a dinner party. I wish you were there. My friends Fe and Carlo, he's italian and she's english (not in an americano sense either, they were born there, respectively) they had a spaghetti dinner. Fe got the secret recipes from Carlo's grandma back home......shes in the club, the spaghetti club. The sangria that their room mate made was potent beyond belief. To see 15 people tipsy and starving was amusing. Stay away from the railing, the view, the sunset was stellar. I have eaten such good food, the kind made with love, shared it with so many in sometime. Dinner parties are underrated. I hate my apartment as its not suited for such an event but i would love to have one.....nico and i used to have winter solstice parties....she used to cook more often...hmmmm......nate, got any suggestions to get her back in the kitchen? |
tell her she's fat and needs to go on a diet. |
we've both focused on different culinary genres, so whatever we're itching for chooses the cook. idunno. i don't see cooking as punishment, personally. we both enjoy it. and really we just switch off on head chef/assistant chef. she makes a mad curry. |
|
|
She also cooked more when she was vegetarian. |
you have this full on sexually liberated lap dance buying freak for a wife and you're worried because she's not in the kitchen as much anymore. wake up buddy. |
|
that boy is mad sexy. we have another date on wednesday. whew. this morning i made carrot pineapple bran muffins. now i'm going surfing. first day back in the water after a long, agonizing surfing hiatus. being on medical leave kicks ass. oh, and you know what else? i saw a career counselor on saturday. it was absolutely amazing. i don't know why that isn't a more common thing for adults. it's like we only do that sort of thing in high school or college. but shit, you don't have a clue about life back then. now things are slightly more clear and i've learned what i'm good at and what i'm bad at. and the counselor doesn't just have you fill out a questionnaire and then announces, "You are a mechanic!" or "You are a nurse!" She actually takes time to get to know you, your past, your issues, your priorities outside of work, and then tries to help you find a way to do what you love and so that your job can, in whatever ways possible, accommodate the other things in your life that take priority. she's also a serious financial/business consultant and knows how to help people write business plans, resumes, and has connections all over the place. amazing. i totally recommend career counseling for anyone who wants to change jobs and has the rare luxury of being idealistic and existential about making a living. * Tennessee Pumpkin Bread 1/4 cup shortening 1 cup sugar 1-2 tbs black molasses 1/2 teaspoon vanilla 1/4 teaspoon coconut extract (optional) 2 eggs 1 cup mashed cooked or canned pumpkin 1 2/3 cup flour 1/2 teaspoon baking power 1 teaspoon baking soda 1/2 teaspoon salt 1 teaspoon cinnamon 1/2 teaspoon nutmeg 1/4 teaspoon ground cloves 1/2 teaspoon ground ginger 1/3 cup cold water 1/2 cup chopped walnuts 1/3 cup shredded baking coconut In one bowl combine shortening, sugar, molasses, the extracts. Add one egg at a time and mix. Add pumpkin and mix it up. In another bowl add all the dry ingredients and mix it up real good. Pour 1/2 the dry ingredients into the pumpkin mixture and blend. Add half the water. Pour in the other 1/2 of the dry ingredients and blend well. Add the rest of the water. Dump in nuts and coconut flakes. Mix it up and pour it into a regular bread pan, greased. Bake for 45-60 minutes at 350 degrees. |
I cook complex and ornate meals when I'm depressed. But it seems, especially around here, that normal food for me is a complex and ornate meal to someone else. So people must think I'm depressed all the time. |
I don't like cooking /for/ people nearly as much as I like cooking /with/ people. narcissism IS good. Especially if you like Ayn Rand. erm. Aleister Crowley (and, following his example, Robert Anton Wilson) forced himself to stop using the word "I" by slicing himself in the arm whenever he said it (R.A. Wilson just bit himself really hard). Apparently it's supposed to totally change your worldview. I keep trying to do it, but forgetting; I'll catch myself 5 hours latter babbling about myself, and scream and run off, and people don't get it. *sigh* HUNGRY. |
|
|
|
|
Not English like not is that. |
|
|
|
the chocolate pie i just cooked is cooling in the refrigerator. off to the gym! i can't wait to see Lavernis! |
|
wish her well. |
|
Mavis needs pie! |
i want to get drunk. however, i wish calories and hangovers were not involved in the process. alas. |
tomorrow i upload all the new shit. a session with the career counselor. fix the vaccuum again. test drive the '85 beemer. surfing. a date with my big beautiful black bodybuilder. my final day of medial leave. gonna be a big day, better make it count. i'll need a good breakfast. perhaps the banana bread. and a shot of bourbon. |
i need a man who will cook for me. i want to be fed. sit in front of my face, looking into my eyes while spooning tapioca pudding into my mouth, which i'll roll on my tongue for three minutes before i swallow. instead it's "want some more tongue? here you go!" bleah. and supposedly i'm the first person he's ever kissed. no wonder. |
|
|
i miss being a little kid when i could do anything. if something was wrong i could always ask for a hug. now it's "calvin and hobbes" and ice cream. sometimes the world gets cold. |
kissing i think will arouse me a helluva lot quicker than most convetional approaches, such as pornography, groping and table dances. i'm pretty good, in her opinion. she had to help me in the beginning, controlling the slobber factor, the lip and tongue action. Now, I do little, less is more.....Gee try the less is more approach. Take a kiss slow, from gentle lip friction, to random tongue insertion, suck a lip for 1/2 sec here and there. its like a tossed salad too much dressing = bad and so on...... |
|
|
if thats what i think it is, nawwww ever had a hot carl? or a dirty sanchez? |
|
|
|
hot carl-taking a dump on your lovers face hot carl (safe version)-same as above only with saran wrap on your face or lying underneath a transparent surface, such as a glass table dirty sanchez-stick your finger in your a-hole and wipe it on the upper lip of someone you love (or hate) i forget what the chicago and boston steamers are...... oh and of course there's the walrus, when you bust a nut in your lovers mouth, and before swallowing can commence, sucker punch them as to obtain the desired effect of streaming jiz out the sides of the mouth, ergo the walrus and we all know what tea baggin is, thats all i know |
I'm sorry. It's over. No, don't cry. Oh sheesh, I hate it when men cry. Alright, if you promise to NEVER ever again mention hot carls...I'll think about putting you back up on the lust pedestal. |
no. |
no ever asks how the chicken got out of the coop now do we. and cat, i am just a messenger, i do not practice, advocate or encourage these activities,.........well.....except maybe to nate from what i recall in being informed about these practices, this served as teamster humor on movies sets several friends worked on. pffffffft (climbing cat's lust pedastal and sitting with arms crossed) |
it's not that i don't like kissing. but for me, it's always come too soon or too late. if it's just kissing, with nothing before, that leads to groping, i really don't like it. i'm young. i like to be held and cuddled because i feel safer that way. christ, the guy would hardly let me touch his hand. he only hugged me a couple of times so he could appear "sensitive." if he ever touches me again, i'll bite more than just his nose. i may lean towards vegetarianism, but i'd rather be a cannibal than be a doormat. and shit love doesn't exactly sound like my cuppa tea. somehow it leave a bad taste in my mouth. |
And while you're up on my lust pedestal...give Harrison Ford a big wet one for me. |
|
and an umbrella, just incase sanchez and carl get steamy up there. |
here dude, *drops rope* bring some chiba and a deck of cards..... its boring..... |
On other fronts, I've never been too into kissing. Recently, I've been a little more intrigued by it, but I'm very shy physically at first, so I rarely kiss people. I'm getting over that, though. Slowly. |
I'm thinking of putting a jacuzzi up there to encourage nekkid romps. Just be sure to say nice things about me to Harrison (lie if you have to) |
|
is it ok to bring musical instruments? how about my flute? |
It's for your own good, really. You'll thank me for this later. |
|
Can you let her up, just for me? Please? |
okay. no flute. but what about a piano? or a guitar? or a tenor saxophone? or even my lowly little... jaw harp! i can bring shoe boxes! |
|
|
yikes! i made these chonies the other day, and they say "don't mess with mavis" in the "don't mess with texas" font. my pal who just moved to houston couldn't find any dmwt chonies and i couldn't wait. |
I am a dream come true. that's my answer to nate. |
|
|
|
i've always preferred celery strings. q: what do you call a g-string that shrunk in the wash? a: an a string! hahahahahaha!!!! |
|
|
|
unless she's overcooked. i bet she gets stringy. |
but go ahead and eat her. we could use one less teenybopper. but don't blame me if you're filled with the sudden desire to makeout with justin timberlake. |
|
|
|
|
|
|