A (Wo)Man Needs a Maid

Saturday, July 27th, 2013

So a couple nights ago I had a dream that I had a roommate. She was upset with me because the house isn’t exactly – okay, at all – clean.
At first I felt bad, but then I started to think about it. “When was the last time you cleaned the litter box?” I asked her.
“Never,” she admitted.

Then I woke up and realized that roommate is me.

Except sub “never” for “twice a month” (ish) and this probably explains why my cat has started peeing in the tub.

In my defense he has two boxes.

But still.

Anyway, take this level of sloth and imagine every other household task in combination with what you now know about the kitty litter and my place is making me loco.


^^^me circa five minutes ago and looking a bit loco, as it were.

Here’s the thing.
I don’t like to clean.
And it doesn’t help that my dog has been shedding like a mofo.
And Maui is insanely dirty. In addition to being where young people go to retire it is the dirtiest place on earth.
You into black soles of feet?
Calcutta’s got nothing on this little slice of paradise.

Anyway, it’s 2013.
Where’s my flying robot slave?
I neeeeeeeeeeed it.

Mostly to teach the cat to pee in the toilet, but cleaning the tub would be a nice touch while s/he is at it.
And hanging up the giant pile of clean laundry on my bed.
And mopping.
And giving me a haircut.
And dusting this black dust covered hovel.
And making me a grilled cheese sandwich stat.

That is all.
Thank you for listening.

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Saturday. July 13. 4:32 p.m.

Saturday, July 13th, 2013

Sitting on my couch.
Watching a documentary.
Eating Frosted Flakes out of the box.

Damn, it feels good to be a gangster.


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Some Pix From My Phone

Sunday, July 7th, 2013

What can I say?
Writing takes time of which I am short at the moment.
Thus, here are some random shots currently on my phone instead.







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He Was Probably High Most of the Time

Wednesday, July 3rd, 2013

Everyone is going to hurt youBut he was pretty wise, as well.

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The Anniversary of Memories

Tuesday, July 2nd, 2013

reality worst game everToday is the anniversary of something that is now nothing more than a memory, which makes it doubly sad that my subconscious decided to torture me all night long reminding me of its existence/occurrence/desire to commemorate something better off forgotten.

Of course, I also kept dreaming I was in this murky river filled with hippos and rhinos.

I would get to swimming and forget all about the rhinos and then suddenly this tremendous current would come in and push me deep and backwards and I’d open my eyes and the water was shades of coppers and browns and I’d see all these giant creatures and their open mouths and suddenly realize all the danger I was in.


In real life I’m not in any physical danger (not in any more than anybody else anyway) and so long as the sentimental parts of my brain would allow July 2 to slip by without notice as just another day, I suppose I’m doing fine.

In other news, there really isn’t any other news, so let’s bring it around with Pablo Neruda who said what I’m also trying to say but – par usual – said it better: “Love is short. Forgetting is so long.”

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