I'm working on a piece of ... Extinct Flak - extinct flak will rise up bite you right quick if you get uncareful - it's not theoretical space you're screwing with no no - do not attempt in a garage environment -
I love train videos.
Fukushima - ghost town
I miss Paris Hilton. Della Street. Katherine Hepburn.
Agree with Mr. Bukowski on one thing - Mickey Mouse gives me the creeps too.
Don't have to worry 'bout tsunami up here on Tug Hill or earthquakes too much either. I can sit here comfortably, with coffee, and watch videos 'bout both and do. Loves me some tsunami video.
On my mate's 'puter some bald guy in a studio is talking about Indiana Jones. 5:24 a.m. Three women sit with him. Two of the women are conversing.
Con-ver-sing, Con-versing. I like that word. Conversing.
Staccato is another cool word.
And "gregarious".
I'll have a Gregarious on rye with a side order of Staccato. Bring a bottle of Conversing with that. Please.
First thing this morning my brain coupled together the words "extinct" & "flak". My brain the train yard. Funny thing is about half an hour later my mate, knowing nothing of what's going on in my train yard, shows me a story about a father & son in Denmark out exploring the countryside with metal detectors when they get a hit start digging discover a German Messerschmitt fighter plane with the bones of the pilot still in the cockpit. Synchronicity ? Coincidence ?
Coincidence - working definition, operation of an unknown principle -
The Kardashians - also the operation of an unknown principle.
Heard yesterday that Kansas is burning. Wildfire. If I lived in Kansas I'd move to Vermont.
Richard Brautigan died by his own wish in 1984. He has stayed dead since then, 33 yrs now. I don't believe I'll ever forget Trout Fishing in America Shorty or Rommel driving on deep into Egypt or cave seepage or Kitty Hawk Kimonos or Boo, Forever. Just to name a few.
Fuck you, Richard. Your trout steel deserted you just when you needed it most and you let it go without a fight. Yeah, fuck you.
Jack Kerouac drank himself to death. In Florida. Dead 48 yrs & counting. I'm not going to forget the Ghost of the Susquehanna but fuck you too, Jack. In fact fuck you in pigshit double. At least Richard had the balls to fill his hand with a gun point it at his own head and pull the trigger with his own finger.
You, you didn't have the backbone for that. Comes down to it, you're a phony. A chickenshit. At least with Bukowski God had to send cancer to take the man down. With you & Richard he didn't have to lift a finger. That's what is called easy money.
While I'm thinking about it, Bambi's mother, that whole thing bothers me too. Bambi's mother gets shot. Shot. That is how she dies. Shot-to-death. By one of us. SHOT. Maybe by Richard Brautigan. Maybe Jack Kerouac came along & offered her a drink in her death throes.
Maybe she should have moved to Vermont.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XYjMmO10bOE
Doll, you may have found a place of rest but I'm still on the trail.