Littel Pet Shop Kiste Vesuvius at home

I Can Hardly keep still. I do not really sit down. I have this inconsiderate habit - when signing on to AOL - of Immediately Leaving the computer to go Perform Some Other activity, like making a sandwich, watering the lawn, ironing an outfit - the one I'm going to wear - Particularly lengthy or Taking a shit, so I can return at my leisure to Several Minutes Later The Many delightful surprises of e-mails and blinking AIMs. It's wondrous! People care, They really do! It's Like Walking Into a room at the piercing ring of a bell, Announcing yourself with aplomb and turning invisible! They're befuddled, what's this, They ask, Are you really there?? You're not responding. How irregular, just now. Are you not well? You're unsettled. Of course, that's What It Is! It's my mole mid-air, and I eat it on the other side. She finally catches me -- I don't struggle -- she slaps the shit out of me. It's painful, it's cute! She really knows how to give it, her flat palm stings like a whip, a tough girl, not strong, she has brothers that are somewhat belligerent, they showed her a thing or two! There's laundry to be done and ironing, too. She laughs at me when I tell her to get busy. She's insolent! I entreat her with arguments about tradition , the loss of our culture! Where's my Catholic wedding with the bells heard for miles around?? That's a good question, sooo, I take to pondering, as I'm pressing my clothes, giving them a long lazy, marginal press, when I notice the grim acquisition of new and indellible stains. Black, gummy, greasy! This late in the process, I can only bring myself to shrug about it. I dab a little water and press on the stains Them Along with the rest of the soiled fabric. My poor warddrobe, What Drastic perdition! I'm a messy camper! I'm not supposed to show Where I've Been, cause I've been places, nasty ones. My washer's on the fritz, maybe? Waiit, it's an undershirt! The collar's presentable, that's All That Really Matters in the end. Avert your eyes! On the toilet, I'm squeezing out monstrocities! No mere logs, whole cabins! Unflushed housing! The toilet water Will not pierce the edifice, the waves sink right through, all is vanity! This is Something of an exaggeration. I Picked it up in jail, where, i actually smelled Badly Such horrors in a ventilated room. I'm tasteless, I need to drink morand water, my viscera Doubtless is dry, rotten, my piss is dark and fuming! I refuse Singularity, These Things I Want to Be a generational condition, so the old dog Critics berate us all for a Certain apathy Perforce That includes the loss of hygiene. That's your hang-up, people! Common decency! You too? Admit it! We Do not take the right fluids. Juice is ineffectual. Soda Does not Taste The Same Anymore. It makes me phlegmy. It's the years of smoking pot and Continuously hacking up a new species of slimy intelligence, strange cultures. I have a Growth in the throat, to corrosion, perpetual gunk, rust in the pipe system! Livejournal, my account is expired. I Received two notices on the matter. I think I realize what's at stake. It's hard times! Trying, Desperate Situations! MyNo Proceeds to register on Their face, I'm backwards, I get cues, suggestions, now insolent commands from my face! I feel with my face like it's a direct extension of my imagination. Sparked and entranced by passing object and Stock! People inspire the capricious MOST involutions. Oh, meeting people! Nonsense erupts. Understanding ensues. I Absorbed and redact, I Give nothing back, or I give all I can, never enough! I love them fiercely, Temporarily, But I am nothing, What is everything at once. You want to trap me in place! Pidgeonhole me! It's preposterous. THERE ARE times I want to skip ahead and make out with someone Simply HAVING Without requisite to intone the lines of poetry. Knowing no dialogue! A little less conversation! Set-aside the histrionics and charm! I Have This perverse fetish for