We have domain!
Do we have domain mapping? Well, no.
But who cares?
So happy right now. (And I’m not on even on drugs. For once.)
UPDATE – But I’m about to be. Braincells? Who needs ’em etc
The IGA down the road just started stocking those whipped cream soda bulbs with NO in them, and there’s something about it which really pulls everything into focus.
That glorious trembling-on-the-edge-of-the-abyss moment when you suddenly Understand. Y’know? You understand everything. And it’s so beautiful. And then you fall..
And then you wake up.
And there’s all these people swirling around.. my Mum.. baby sis (the original Toots).. everyone I’ve ever had sex with is in there. Mite & Firedrake are in there.. Lady J.. the accursed Mr Henley.
So many people, swirling around. Are any of them even real? Or am I just imagining them? Is there a difference? What a ridiculous question. But beautifully so.
But it isn’t the afterglow.. it’s the moment.. that moment when you see through infinite worlds and you swoon and bite your lip and it’s a beautiful gesture and it’s perfect and.. ahh.. the beautiful language-crucifying perfection of it all. And simultaneously there’s this ahh.. and you feel pain and taste blood and the ahh is actually nasty grinding ouch. And the beautiful flaw that makes the whole cosmic punchline so perfect is actually, you know, quite a serious problem (of course – how could it be otherwise?) and it’s gonna be a lot of work.. and back in the meatshow you’ve just gouged a great big chunk out of your lip and it hurts.
But you gotta laugh, incha.
Without the sour, baby etc
Grimsby has been hard at work. Early yesterday afternoon, at great personal inconvenience to me, I spilled an entire cup of coffee over my keyboard.
After that it mysteriously stopped working. I think we all know who’s responsible.
I got by for the rest of the day by typing with my mouse onto an onscreen software keyboard that I found by cutting & pasting the words “onscreen keyboard mac” – one letter at a time, natch – into Google.
This morning I was able to borrow an interim keyboard off somebody which will tide me over until I can afford a new one.
So what’s really happened here? My Schedule of Destruction has simply expanded to include my old keyboard, which was dirty and cruddy and needed to be eliminated anyway. I have lost nothing. Not even time – because (as regular readers will know) I don’t believe in it.
In your FACE, forces of darkness.
Alexis is back, again.
And the legendary Avery Cardoza was back for about five minutes but now appears to be gone.
Grimsby, shakes fist etc
robert henley is not krusty the klown, sitting on his front porch with a shotgun
The nagging sense that I’ll never really be complete unless I take a picture of every book I own and post them all along with an explanation of what each one means to me?
Does anyone else get this? Is there a name for it?
Was the first anniversary of my move to Melbourne. I only just realized. Time flies.
I should have celebrated. So much has happened. It has been a unique twelve months.
But I was too preoccupied with other things to even notice.
by Operative Pulat
aged 29 and 2 months
4:24am: Get up.
5am – 5:30am: Predawn emailage.
5:30am – 6am: Tram it to work.
9am-12pm: Participate in anti-IR reforms protest, inadvertantly exposing Operative Li Han to emotionally threatening situation.
12pm-12:30pm: Tram it back to my ‘hood.
12:30pm-1pm: Grocery shopping.
1:30pm-2pm: Arrive home.
2pm-3:15pm: Bloggage, pay perilously overdue electricity bill etc.
3:30pm-5pm: Beers at Espy with P.
(He’s lost his false front tooth. The effect is well scary.)
5:30pm-7pm: Home again, some emailage.
7pm-7:30pm: Tram it back into town. Camera battery dies.
8pm-9:30pm: Turns out to have been a wasted trip anyway. Come home.
9:30pm-10:30pm: Smoke bongs, curse enemies etc
11pm: Go to bed.
Do not be afraid. Be brave, for a glorious new era beckons. Vote Nada!