archives for May 2007
and they still haven’t found what they’re looking for (presumably)
Saturday 26 May 2007 | I like a cookie
zen pillowcase gay maine bathhouse sleeping in jeans muslim sleep bed floor internal emanations technical difficulties earthlink [yeah....] snort aripiprazole [really wouldn't recommend this] abilify insomniac [uh-huh] mandatory wear rakusu [nuh-uh] libra unreliable [you can say that again] revolted egg [huevos revueltos!] and the touching inquiries: tell us what it is to be a woman [...]
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other varieties of mentally interesting (doesn’t mention kayak anxiety or mountain wanderer syndrome)
Friday 25 May 2007 | I like a cookie
irreverent forum categories at crazymeds.org
Friday 25 May 2007 | someone left a cookie
Mother’s Little Helpers – Benzodiazepines For Swingers & Shakers – Anticonvulsants I’m Not That Crazy, Am I? – Antipsychotics Happy Pills We Love to Hate – Antidepressants I’m So Happy I Could Kill Myself! – Bipolar Treatment Counting Flowers on the Wall – Anxiety & Phobias Removing the Tinfoil Hat – Schizophrenia My Pills Don’t [...]
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nonexistent DSL connection
Friday 25 May 2007 | I like a cookie
And I don’t know what in the world to do about it, because I don’t think it’s the modem, I think it’s a rain-soaked phone line. Can I really stand this for another six weeks? Well, for now, until I get kicked off—the Brujo and I met this morning with the black-leather-jacketed Cool Psychiatrist, who [...]
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most inscrutable blurb ever
Wednesday 23 May 2007 | I like a cookie
This is a handbook with a ravenous audacity instructing and warning doubly how to halve a narcissus. Her extra-convial form hinges to receive what is tender: Ms. Doris’ is the authentically cosmetic craft. Nothing else is new thus. (Lisa Robertson, blurbing a selection of poems by Stacy Doris, Paramour, from Krupskaya Books)
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coals to newcastle
Wednesday 23 May 2007 | I like a cookie
Fresh rose-red raspberries veiled in cream at two in the morning, hand-plucked by unhappy Oaxacans in a sunny land not far south of here—what could be more decadent? Sleeping; sleeping could be more decadent. But sleeping is not to be. Listen, fair reader, and ye shall hear the tragickal tale of a wee accidental overdose, [...]
flipper’s dry wisdom on unsupportive comrades
Tuesday 22 May 2007 | I like a cookie
Discouragement from friends is pretty hard to take. And it seems to leave only two reasonable interpretations, neither of which are pretty. Whatever the travails ahead, you are facing them together. (Regional chauvinism, bye the bye, is something oddly endemic these days. I can’t blame Santa Feans for looking on Phoenix as the last stop [...]
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prelude to summer plagues
Monday 21 May 2007 | I like a cookie
This morning when I watered the lavender, a small but distinct cloud of brown rice flew into the air and then settled down again. What the hell, I thought; realized they were infant grasshoppers, none larger than a sunflower seed. Peering down to look, each one already perfectly shaped, down to his tiny eyes, mandibles, [...]
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untitled, with pale blue polka dots
Sunday 20 May 2007 | I like a cookie
Last night I went to a dinner party—an actual dinner party! I didn’t particularly want to go (surprise) but the Brujo had already left for Albuquerque to hear a bunch of famous musicians making weird loud noises, a.k.a improvisational jazz; and I’d already said I’d go. So I went. Funny how I don’t seem to [...]
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always the end of the music must be awaited
Saturday 19 May 2007 | I like a cookie
My father decided that what the Brujo and I really needed, presumably to keep us from wandering lost in the Sonoran, was a GPS unit. In the package also were, inexplicably, these extremely Teutonic instructions for the assemblage of an authentic Black Forest cuckoo clock (did my parents actually purchase one of these? or did [...]
