FINALLY!!! Liv got it right and i KNOW she didn't cheat - she's the one person who knows that "Apache Rose Peacock" is my favorite Chili Pepper's tune, she'll be thinking of the rest of you and gloating as she is either being licked or "kickin' to the licks".
i mean, really, "If you have to ask you'll never know - Funky motherfuckers will not be told to go"
wow, i think i'll do that every week - throw a quote or lyric and see if there are and movie/music fans out there . . .
or maybe not since it took two days for someone to answer. i may have nothing but musically challenged readers and this would cause me to be totally giving over the oral luvin' to Liv whose husband would surely want pictures . . . maybe i'll *not* go there.
Wednesday was sleepy since i woke up with a putrid throat and a deep chest cough. i have attacked with much medicine, juice, Mexican food, and rest. that didn't work. i thought of starving it but i didn't have the energy to do it. i had breakfast, lunch AAAAND dinner. there goes my fond dreams of an anorexic future. i'd try for bulimia but i cry every time i throw up and struggle with it about as much as i struggle with the pointie-pointies. sad really.
if it's any consolation, they were all small meals.
oh! well, in that case, it's all right!
why am i talking to you?
i don't know. why am i replying?
i'm obviously delirious.
yes, you are! but i'm fine.
onward, ho!
i am *NOT*!
oh, SHUT UP, YOU!
ahem. there now. i'll leave my inner imbecile playing the squishy blue yo-yo and finish this diatribe. where was i?
something about small meals . . .
oh, why yes. that subject seemed sufficiently closed, don't you think? i do, and that's all that really matters, now isn't it? hhmm, i do seem to be in the habit of talking to my self and asking myself questions . . . have i always done that?
kinda - usually when you're challenged with a puzzle or stressed out.
i wonder why that is. do you think it's a sign that i've snapped to have started not only talking to myself, but actually writing to myself?
naw. the doc said it was our way of working out our thought. said that anything we ever seemed to need to know was already up here - we'd just forgotten it. in response, we 'talk it out' so we can hear when the logic rings false. always worked well before.
really? that's somewhat of a comfort. now, stop that! quit popping those impertinent bubbles and give me that moronic bauble! how did you do that? the string? on my finger? and you just bounce it a bit? ah! there is goes! one, two, three, fo- hey! aaah! ooph! oh! oooowww! it's not supposed to hit me in the eye! take that damned thing away and hide it! i don't care, you could stuff it under a ROCK!
how embarrassing. poor chap, bested by a child's toy. i can't believe i admitted it. hey, wait a bit! WHY am i admitting it? you guys weren't here, you'd never know if i just deleted these last few paragraphs! oh, well, my inner teen and inner 18th century stuffed British shirt were aching to rumble and it's fun to see them instead of just play them back and fro in my head.
well, today was uneventful other than the serious heartbreak that My Joey may not make it after all. he is having starter/battery problems with his truck, too. i'm all bummed out and reading a murder book, now.
i saw The Bad Boy for a few today. i wonder if he ever realized how much and how little i wanted and needed from him. i still just want to know he's on the road to happiness or at least acceptance and comfort. i need to see the self hatred soothed away. i wish he could see himself the way i see him. he is almost doG-like; capable, strong, resourceful, smart and clever, able to overcome anything. why can't he understand that no matter what, i still believe he can do whatever he wants?
doesn't he understand that i'm *only* wrong when it come to me?
all i can do is stand idly by and wring my hands, hoping that some spark dawns upon him. i don't need him to come back to me. i just need him to come back to himself.
"Apache Rose Peacock" ~ Red Hot Chili Peppers
"Sittin' on a sack of beans
Sittin' down in New Orleans
You wouldn't believe what I've seen
Sitting on that sack of beans
Lunatics on pogo sticks
Another southern fried freak on a crucifix
Hicks don't mix with politics
People on the street just kickin' to the licks
Part 1:
Yes my favorite place to be
Is not a land called Honah Lee
Mentally or physically
I wanna be in New Orleans
Oh good brother just when I thought
That I had seen it all
My eyes popped out, my dick got hard
And I dropped my jaw
I saw a bird walkin down the block
Name Apache Rose Peacock
I could not speak I was in shock
I told my knees to please not knock
Repeat Part 1
A little boy came along
Name of Louis Armstrong
Said that girl who left me silly
She liked the looks of me and my willy
So I found her in the quarter
Good God how I adored her
Oh she made me feel so cozy
When she told me I could call her Rosey
Part 2:
I kiss your hair your skin so bare
I'll take you with me girl anywhere
You fare well in stormy weather
I never met a girl that I liked better
Twinkle twinkle little star
Shining down on my blue car
Drivin' down the boulevard
She was soft and I was hard
Apache Rose gotta rockin' peacock
Hottest ass on the goddamn block
Rockin' to the beat of the funky ass meters
She has one of those built in heaters
Repeat Part 2
Voodoo gurus casting their spells
Cockatoo drag queens shakin' their bells
Silver sound escapes the trumpet
Watch your leg someone might hump it
Chicken strut your butt let's rock
Gettin' it on under your frock
Flowing like a flame all through the night
My girl's insane but it's all right
Repeat Part 1"
1 girls have 'gotten it on under their frock'
confessed on Thursday, Aug. 28, 2003