Sunday, January 22, 2006

Welcome back to the scat-cave. Ya ba da zoo ee.

Hey! I'm back!!

Squeeeoooooo (siren sound)
The Hess truck's back and it's better than ev-er. Hey now, hey now, the hess truck's here! (song)

I never understood those holiday Hess truck commercials. Like, why. But then there are lots of things like that. You ask, Why? And there is no answer. The obligatory tumbleweed of social life passes by, there is making up for awkward silence by bursting into even more awkward and way more nonsensical chatter, and then somebody comes swinging wildly at you with a battered and much-loved toy truck which was made by fiscally battered and non-loving hands in China. So better to avoid all that stuff and eat some chocolate cake made with batter and a loving cook, perhaps even the muppets swedish chef so you may also be entertained with a couple 'bork bork borks'.

I can't believe it's already the end of January, of this even-numbered newish year. All those sparkly new hopes and dreams and wishes and fishes and plans have faded and lost their mall-bought sheen of bourgeois respectability. Their tags are still on and I've shoved 'em under the rug, snug as a bug, so people can trip on them and fall and hurt their leg before they go act in plays. Haw haw, so literal. Ho ho so ironic. Hum hum so delightful! so noir!

Maybe I should make this blog a practice in surrealist writing. Because that's what this 'new beginning' is starting out as. Words are just flying out of my keyboard in a dada-istic frenzy. And let me tell you, dada-istic frenzy is never pretty. Too many toilets and curse words and elephant poop.

I sort of lost my focus (what? no never!), about what I should do with this space. Those shiny intentions included like, thinking... or something. Because I'm the kind of person who actually doesn't have anything of much substance going on in the ol' cranium unless I can process it through writing. So hey, why not? But this is so effectively counterattacked with a rousing round of Laziness and Depression, these seductive enemies, trained in the subtle art of the path of least resistance, that I have to FIGHT! For the Right! To pa--a-aaaaa---ar-ttytY!!!

Who will win?? Me or me?? It's a win-win! Lose-lose! Go ahead! Talk more! My brain cells are being taken over by the persuasive tones of Catherine Zeta Jones and Hess trucks and the tragedy of the whale swimming by Big Ben and then dying and what would Herman Melville have thought of that? Would it have been a really short story?

This was all to say, that maybe I will try to write again tomorrow, or the next, and/or some number to the nth degree til the end of time. The End. Though Not of Time.

(ps. thanks to robyn for the css aid. Don't worry. It wasn't shady like that business with Kofi Annan's son. Hi I'm a dork.)

1 comment:

walter said...

you sound like you're going insane