1.5.06

What I Think Periods Look Like When They Come A Few Days Late

I'm born, yeah? Twice though.

Unlike my first birth, which seemed pretty easy from my point of view and had a pretty clear demarcation between pre-born (able to be brain-scrambled) and post-born (able to be mind-fucked). This time, for Birth 2, I've been awkwardly hanging from the uterus of childhood, flinging amniotic-soaked particles of broken down placenta in a wide spray, and slowly oozing into adulthood for nigh-on three years now.

To celebrate, I had dozens of ideas. First, we'd go to Leaning Tower, right? Because it would be horrible. So I surveyed the bar horizon and detected a fatal flaw in not allowing Midnight Minted Adults to take about an hour on the tower of power; Bar hopping for those two hours could give me a sense of the scene I have been excluded from, but without I'm walking blind, relying on you fuckers to direct to me a bar.

Then I hear the whining from the chorus. Irritating words like "finals", "study" and "gaywad" surrounded me and I broke down. Fine, no bars, nothing too rowdy, you all psyche yourselves up for futures that rely on knowledge of St. Cloudian newspaper magnates and pass-fail courses you must get A's in...maybe we'll just go out to dinner somewhere nice and pleasant, somewhere that gives food semi-embarrassing names and won't recognize your order unless you use them, hopefully half-drunk off your honky-ass drink and using an unrecognizable accent from the British Isles, "I'd likea...Bloooomin' Onion, yawee litl lass!"

Obviously, I'm not doing that. But once I stray from a traditional 21st, my options become obtuse (Spell-game...all day...), violent (Armed Robbery...still playing the spell game for added pressure on the teller gee-ee-tee- oh-enn- tee-aechh-ee- eff-ell-oh-oh-arr- emm-oh-tee-aechh-ee-arr-eff-euu-cee-kay-ee-arr- tee-aechh-aii-ess- aii-ess-ae-arr-oh-bbery oh fuckfuck arr-oh-bee-bee-ee-arr-wy,), and/or nude (enn-euw-dee-ee).

...

The gist, dear reader, the gésir, the jacet, 1823 form of...Essence! of the whole boodle is that on the Two of May, there will be cooking of meat over fire at Kevin's, followed by drinking on the banks of the Mississippi River as it flows toward the ocean, adding our urean bit to the world's water supply. If it turns rainy, we will think on our feet and find cover.

Love,
The Sexual Plato

3 comments:

Justice Rare said...

Right then, you cheeky bastards gonna do it up right like you always do with, with the forty pound pig and a jig-saw puzzle? I am waiting, I am fucking waiting, I never thought this day would actually get here. I mean, it was one thing when you turned eightteen, but twenty-one, for fucks sake it feels like I should be at least thirty I don't feel like I should only be two years older than you, something is fucked up here. At any rate I will be getting off work at 6 and so I should be there at about 7 or so. So don't go stumbling off to da river witout me, you little rat, or der be hell ta pay.

Anna Nym said...

Aye-dee-oh-en-tee-aich-ay-vee-ee tee-oh-gee-ee-tee-ay-en-Ay ef-oh-ar-es-pee-ay-en-aye-es-aich. Aye-ay-em-jay-ewe-es-tee
tee-aich-ay-tee-es-em-ay-ar-tee
ef-ewe-see-kay-ee-ar.

Happy Birthday,
Tee-aye-en-ay

I wanted to play the spelling game in Cockney, using rhyming slang, but
it was getting ridiculous.

jelly=jelly donut=don't
safe=safe bet=get
chiles(child's)=chiles play=A
dirty=dirty crust=just
head=head start=smart
dead=dead hooker=fucker

So I would have spelled this: Aye jelly af to safe a chiles fuh Spanish. Aim dirty that ead, dead.

And everyone would have thought I was warmly (=warmly regarded=retarded). Which, still, isn't far from wasted (=wasted youth=truth)

Now if I could spend that energy on academic produce...

ETC said...

hope yall got good and drunk for the GRZA.

I was at kinkos
trying to print two posters...
for 5 hours...
only got one done.

how is it that when you send a 32"x70" poster to a 32" wide banner printer with a 32" roll of paper in the printer that you get a print out that for some reason assumes it should be 72" wide and ten fucking feet long! I don't need 10' of half of my poster! You cant print 72" wide on 32" paper! It just doesn't work! And just becuase my poster is twice as big doesn't make up for the fact that it is still, in the end only half of my poster! FUCK!

So we had to tell the printer to print at 50% size(non-centered, left Justified) to get it to print full size on the right sized paper(WTF?).

So, now I get to go back tonight. Granted, it is Allen working... and everybody kind of loves Allen, and I really love Allen, and I also love not paying the 400 dollars this job would really cost in the end, but I, none the less, still have to go and spend all night tonight back at Kinko's trying to print out the rest of the banners... And then I have to... (edited to spare you from a very long list that you really don't care about)

Happy day.