Blog # 9: Random Notes I Found on My Coffee Table (part 1)

Blog # 9: Random Notes I Found on My Coffee Table  (part 1)

 

1)  Putin, w/ shirt off, riding Sarah Palin through Alaska… he’s pointing off into the distance saying “Look, Sarah, I can see your house!”  [save for when Russia invades]

 

2)  People are whores — because our corporeity makes us dead inside, and we crave anything that will allow us some semblance of Life…

 

3)  “Then… no time at all has passed?!  But the ghosts — those lying, bastard fiends!  I’ll kill ‘em…!”

 

4)  Did you ever notice how it often feels like life gets in the way of living?

 

5)  Were-crow (or raven?):  doesn’t turn completely into a crow, but is covered with feathers, sprouts a beak (akin to a vampire’s fangs)… shrinks a bit (about chimp-sized)… can’t fly, but sort of glides — albeit plummetingly… instead of drinking blood, it drinks bile and eats spleen…

 

6)  I once dated a woman named Spinning Jenny… who was much more exciting than her sister Lazy Susan… I’d also enjoyed the company of their esoterically epistemological cousin Penny For Your Thoughts… and they had that friend who was always hanging around, Beverly of the Stinky Cheese… (That’s not a thing.)  And (uh!) who was the other one — what was her name?… Mary Jane!  And (er), well, nevermind.

 

7)  “Do you love her more than me?”

“Oh, come on — how can you ask me that?”

“Well, do you?”

“I — I don’t know… how do you measure something like that?  It’s two entirely different sorts of love; how would you quantify it?  I love her 20 units of affection, but you I love 30 with 10 units of prurient desire on the side?  I don’t know.”

“Well, why don’t you just try at least!”

“Fine.  How ‘bout this:  my love for each of you is comparable in size — for her, a head of lettuce, for you, a bowling ball.”

“Bowling ball’s are bigger…”

“Generally, yes — this is a bowling ball-sized head of lettuce.”

“So she gives good head and I’m just not up your alley anymore!?”

“Clever — but no.  So the size of each love is the same, but the mass, the density, is different.”

“You think I’m fat!”

“Uh!!  Not even a little bit!  But if her love were thrown at me, I might say ‘Ow!’ or something, and then perhaps I’d have a lovely salad (leaving me yet hungry for something more) and I’d get on with my life.  But if your love were thrown at me, it would knock me on my ass, I’d lose consciousness, and when I awoke I’d be all oily and have a funny smell…”

 

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—Mishka Zakharin  © 2014

 

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