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Flodis Issue 21
IF IT WEREN'T FOR ALL THE COFFEE
THERE WOULDN'T BE A CHANCE
FOR
FLOWERS
OF
DISRUPTION
TO HAVE ERUPTED ONTO THE SCENE WITH SUCH A
WILD BIGGITY-BANG OF TURDLY EXPLOSION! IT
SMELLS LIKE POOP! AND THIS IS ISSUE #21
OF THE MAGAZINE /EXPRESSLY/ DISTRIBUTED
TO THE EMAIL BOXES OF ANJEE AND TASHA
AND A FEW OTHER SELECT BEINGS
i have a poem that was written for flodis
but you know what?
i don't know which one of my computers
it is on, and that's sad because a nice little
flower wrote it and now i can't find it.
but i do have flodis #21,
aka Vanfire of the Bonities...
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
my friend is my dog. i have two of them, actually. they don't mind when i
am looking stupid but they get a little bit sad if i'm looking unhappy.
that's when they want to lick my face and say hi. they know when i come
home and i'm pouting that i probably could use some of their friendship.
i mean, who needs a girlfriend when you've got a dogfriend? you give the
dog everything it wants and needs and it loves you. it's a lot easier to
convince a dog that it's happy. most girls don't realize that all it takes
for them to be happy is for their needs to be fulfilled.
and if you want a dog, you go out and buy one and buy some dog food for it.
you want a girl, and you have to try to walk around like a sword or a
stick-shift for manual transmission. and that's hard when you are just a
stick in the mud.
and that's true on multiple levels. a guy who's too in tune with nature
doesn't care for much conversation regarding the things that impress women.
talking about the more interesting things in life, such as natural
springs, communism, a great game of checkers -- none of that is quite
important to most girls. they want to hear about social patterns,
gossip, and their own lives.
in some cases, that ends up in a conversation such as this:
girl: nice day it is!
boy: yes, i would like to go to the springs and poke around!
girl: indian springs park?
boy: yes, i very much enjoy going there. the springs are in a sandy
little pond, and you can poke a stick into the springs and it will
go half a foot into the ground. like there wasn't even sand there.
girl: oh, wow. <nods> <looks away> i went to one of those parks with
a friend one time. don't they have swings there?
boy: yeah, out by the entrance.
girl: <laughs> haha, yeah! i went there with marcia and bobby one time!
i think we went and saw... <movie name> that night. and we went
to the park afterwards... <looks over at wall, reminiscing> wait,
do you know bobby or marcia?
boy: yeah, didn't bobby date cindy?
girl: haha. yeah, and me & bobby used to date too. <sips coffee>
<looks off> haha. bobby.
boy: quite a character. i went to grade school with him. he used to talk
about math all the time, and was coming up with all these really
neat ideas before any of the rest of us could think of that sort
of stuff. he was really, really clever. i haven't talked to him
much lately though.
girl: <nods> yeah, i don't know. i think he basically hangs with <name
group of people> and drinks and <name substance abused>. i was
over there a couple of weeks or a month ago...
boy: ok, well even though you're really pretty, you're way too
emotionally and socially cluttered for me. i think i'm going to
go join a communist regime and take over the united states so i
can finally have some element of control over what goes on around
me. not like i even try to have any right now... it's all too
silly. you can't listen to me unless i'm talking about people,
because that's all you know. and the more time i spend talking to
you about people, the less time i will be able to think about
the actual importance of the world we live in. it would be a dumb
existence for me to just delve into social relationships
constantly and lose focus of what really, really matters -- which
is not who bobby is dating, but where he met her ... the kind
of weather that day ... i mean, if he was even man enough to get
her flowers for her birthday, where were those flowers growing?
do you think they were happy? and would i even be happy if i
were in some sort of communist regime? i'd have to watch my step,
and i wouldn't be able to talk to you about what our plans were.
i'm not a very tight-lipped individual, because i believe if
something is TRUE, everyone should know it. unless it affects
me negatively. you know. if something is just globally true,
and it affects everyone's lives, it shouldn't be hidden. if i
discovered just what it was that caused cancer, and let's say it
was ... french fries. that would screw up a lot of peoples' lives,
because they'd have to live without french fries. would i be
the good person and tell everyone, or would i just keep it to
myself?
girl: uhmm, i don't know... <looks at boy at different table, scratches
chin>
boy: would you want to know if french fries caused cancer?
girl: they don't, and you're just full of shit anyway -- i mean, you're
just making up all this random crap which means nothing to me.
you may think that you're being profound or entertaining, but the
truth is you're not interesting me -- nothing you say has any
bearing on my life. none of that crap will change how well my
car runs or how much bobby drinks tonight. there's a whole world
going on and you need to get out of that big head of
yours and see the much larger tapestry flowing all around.
boy: that was pretty cool. <smiles, looks in girl's eyes>
girl: yeah, well, there's more where that came from.
boy: wow, here i thought that our conversation was going nowhere, and i
was boring you to tears, and --
girl: -- maybe you were --
boy: haha, and then you just go and blow my mind. wanna go watch a movie?
girl: where at?
boy: i've got some videos at my house.
girl: yeah, sure. uhmm, you wouldn't happen to have any dog food, would
you?
boy: yeah, i should.
girl: <rolls over on back, exposing tummy>
boy: <rubs tummy>
then the boy & girl go home and each have a loyal, faithful companion whom
they can trust to provide the love and friendship they each need at any
moment of any day.
no matter what kind of mood you're in, there's always that great tapestry
floating around. one great, big moodless tapestry. everybody is looking
at a different part of it at any given moment. and it doesn't change you,
you change it. if you're sad, the picture you see in the tapestry looks
sad. and if you're happy, the tapestry is probably going to be brighter
and cheerier. but the big damn picture is all the same, made of the same
fabric, and someday you'll be able to add your part to it. get out
your yarn and play-doh, it's craft time.
make some ducks and geese with scarves around their necks and put them on
the porch so when the neighborhood crack fiends come running through
knocking over mailboxes,
your property can be defended. ducks get brutal, that's why we don't eat
their eggs. you can't steal eggs out of a duck nest without the mother
going ballistic. and think about the trauma you'd cause the poor momma
duck when you rob her of her children. maybe she's been waiting for years
to lay those eggs because she's rather infertile. look what you've done
now, you greedy jerk! you've taken her last eggs! her only, prized eggs!
she will mope around rivers and streams now, lost and lonely, without the
children she'd waited years to produce. you bastard. next time you're
hungry, get a girl to cook you some pasta or casserole. forget the duck
thing.
and when you're really hungry, don't drink coffee, and when you're really
feeling hyper, don't talk to anyone you want to impress, and when you don't
want to impress anyone, don't talk to a single soul, because you will
prove to them that you are the most boring person in the vicinity.
a man named mogel says that complete spontanaiety is boring, and he is
right.
but without random thought, many are left with such witty remarks as:
"i haven't gotten my order yet."
"oh, i left my headlights on."
"what kind of music do you listen to?"
"it's been humid lately."
these statements don't offend many people, are easy to deliver, and don't
expend much energy. they are also boring, commonplace, boring, and
commonplace statements that will not expand anyone's mind. perhaps they
should be changed to something like this:
"i'm about to start gnawing on my fucking arm."
"oh, hey, i'm a fuckin' idiot!"
"i listen to way too much fuckin' dumb ass music."
"it's like you have to fucking swim through the air outside. my shirt
sticks to my skin like a leech sucking the blood from a man who jumped
off a bridge. this weather reminds me that i should probably be slowly
shaving any last portion of life out of my body because it's not worth
keep'n going."
these four modified versions of the above statements are more likely to
invoke some sort of emotion out of the listener. dissing yourself shows
that you are not high on the egotistical ladder. mentioning the act of
eating human flesh tends to captivate. rambling on about how the weather
is so bad you might as well be dead will bring in goth people to your table
to tell you how brilliant you are even though you don't wear black. they
leave as soon as they realize that you can easily speak the same sort of
depressed hogwash they spout off to each other, without involving yourself
in the whole dark, depressed world of leather clothing, wristbands, and
black t-shirts. that's when they feel stupid.
making people feel stupid is not a way to make friends, unless you're
looking
for masochistic downtrodden lowsouls. i know i am! i often joke about
gnawing on my arm to my friends because most of them are cannibals and
it strikes very close to home with them. we all end up rolling on the
floor in raucous laughter when the subject of flesh eating is introduced
into conversation. because it's true.
if you mention that your musical tastes are extremely dumb and end up
impressing someone with the names of bands you listen to, the impressed
person will know that you're not just in it for the talk. cardiovascular
exercise is good for the soul, bones, heart, gut & gizzard. make a habit
and stick to it. drivers' licenses are a bad creation. they support sloth
and guillotines, but mostly sloth. if you're out driving, and you're
hungry, you can go to a fast food restaurant and digest and absorb all
sorts of fatty lard patties.
without drivers' licenses we'd still all be out huntin' and killin' our
viddles. and we'd all have bike messenger bags to carry 'em. our license
plates would be the patches on our messenger bags. mine would say "tim",
because that's my name, and names are good things to identify people by.
i've got a big base of data in my head that matches names with other
characteristics like faces, cities, interests, memories...
ahh, the memories...
eating watermelon in the park...
dancing to bad music...
watching soap operas...
bathing in the nude...
oy. i gotta take off my hat because there's steam rising from my head.
don't look at me like that. i've had it up to here --> | with your
lousy pumpkin talk. carve the hole and form the face or skull or whatever
you're making and then let's go to the party already. yeah, amusing
amusing. time to go. stop talking to him. ugh, i feel sick. god.
i have to vomit... it was the grape juice. holy. STOP TALKING TO HIM.
good night.
-----
ÕÕª .-.
»ÕÕÕº ª »ÕÕÕÕº Õª ÕÕÕÕÕÕÕª | | this was an
Õª ÕÕ | | honestly bad
»ÕÕÕº ÕÕÕÕÕ | | time-waster
»ÕÕÕÕÕÕÕº | | email-box
ÕÕÕÕÕª ÕÕª »»» | | filler
»º »ÕÕÕÕÕº »»ÕÕºÕº »ÕÕÕÕ»Õº »ÕÕº »»ÕÕÕÕÕÕÕº | | from
.----------------------------------------------------------| | trilobyte
`----------------------------------------------------------`-'
flodis / flowers of disruption #21 / aug-x-99 / trilobyte@hoe.nu
tell your friends to buzz off
