| THIS IS A READ-ONLY ARCHIVE FROM THE SORABJI.COM MESSAGE BOARDS (1995-2016). |
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my new little house (it's been three and a half months now!) has a backyard and so we set up a kiddie pool to soak the feets during the heat wave and one of my housemates (the self-proclaimed prettyboy) dug a firepit. last night he made a fire and i threw on three yellow onions, local but nothing special. the kind of onions that you'd saute in italian food but never eat raw. let them lay on the grill until they were all blackened and charred, popping and hissing in the heat. i pulled one off and peeled the outermost layers off and dropped them in the long dry grass one at a time, burning my fingers. i peeled off more layers, continuing my fingertip burn and handing pieces to mandycakes and lameo the vibemaster. i also burnt my lips, tongue throat but it was good. pain is good, pain is life. slightly sweet, with all the bite gone with the exception of the two innermost layers still crunchy. juicy. the other two onions sat on the grill for ten minutes longer and were shoved in a freezer bag in the fridge when we left for a rooftop hippie party. i worked all afternoon today. it was hot, sweltering, somewhere around 105. i wore long pants and rode my bicycle all day when not working. even at 10 pm, when the world is nearly midnight black, a step onto concrete is like getting slapped in the face with a towel soaked in boiling water. rode home. everyone's gone and sylvie wants in so she can hide in the basement with her water dish that has remained cool. kicked off my shoes, changed. a little better. hungry. two onions left. i pulled out the bag, removed an onion. it's cold. cut off the very top and bottom of the bulb, slippery and squishy. the same flavor as before, but with the heat it's better to have cold things. juice gets all over my hands and around my lips. it's clear, gooey-- thicker than what i'd expect and slightly sticky. maybe a little like semen. i wiped my face on the back of my right hand, took my plate back upstairs to the kitchen. washed my hands. it's late. it's hot. sweltering. |
I'm making a swamp cooler out of box fans, a large cardboard box, lots of duct tape, some coathangers, a couple old towels, twist ties, and a milk jug so far. I dunno how well it'll work. I'm making it for a friend whose apartment is much hotter than mine. |
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maybe that's what i need. everyone i meet is attached in some way. |
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There's jerks everywhere. If they're not jerks, they have girlfriends whom they respect. That's a good thing,really, but sad for me. I seriously doubt it's different anywhere. Money is just a screen. I don't trust it. |
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:0) |
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I am high class. Your definition and my definition of 'high class' are widely different. Sometimes I get bitter and my smiles result only from others' stupidity. |
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The reason why they don't want to let you go...you're their car payment!!!! Keep up the good work...:) |
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This dedication, what was the song? My son's ex girlfriend is Greek, and they really know how to cook. We went over there a couple of times for dinner and man, the food was sooooooo yummy. Instead of your Italian cook, maybe you should get a Greek cook, what do ya say? |
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Existence is self evident. It's proof of identity I'm talking about. |
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you might exist in other computers, but he thinks his is your exit. |
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Good luck with the stickers!! |
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but don't worry, i'm sure it will never come up. |
or maybe it Was obvious and I missed a joke somewhere. |
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