Ramshackle tumbler

2 March 2009 ?

So Friendzo and I were at the rail road tracks the other evening, counting the slats and soaking up some rays. He called me a funny name — Beanzo — and I raised an eyebrow. He called me another funny name — Bobby Darin — and I raised another eyebrow.

He called me a third name, also funny. This third name was “Redd Foxx.” I raised my last eyebrow. –Go ahead, I said, call me a fourth funny name. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He made a few strange faces, including one that made him look like Newt Gingrich with a head cold, but nothing came out of his mouth except for a moth and a John Q. Adams dollar coin. So I called him a really funny name — Reginald Queesenbury. Then we got up and jitterbugged for a half an hour.

Call it a victory.

2 Comments | Friendzo | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Permalink
Posted by hornblower

A lot of questions are being thrown around. I just want to clear a few things up, likesay. (I added that “likesay” in order to avoid ending that sentence with a preposition. You’re welcome.)

2 March 2009 ?

Boogie
Boogie!

Boogie
Boogie!

Ouch, don’t touch that stove! It’s hot. It’s hot hot hot! Super hot! Ouch! Hot to the touch. Run runrun unrunrunrunrunrnurnurunrunurnurnunrunrunrunnnnnnuuuuuurrruurururuurnnrurn

Qu’est-ce que c’est ?

C’est un sandwich au jambon !

Watch out for the capital letters…..

Green is a color, right? I’m not making that up, am I?

Ok, I just looked it up, it is a color, all good, no worries. Whew. Man alive. Close call. Close. Close. Close. Glenn Close oh God!

Run from the Capitol building to the river, how long does it take? About a thousand minutes, not for me though, I can do it in like a minute and a half, without really trying too hard like maybe 75% effort or maybe between 78-80% effort or something like that.

I’m totally one of the fastest people awake right now at Fordham University. Challenge.
Challenge accepted.
Place?
The diaper toilet depot.
Weapons?
Hmm, maybe guns, or knives, or socks filled with elbow macaroni. Maybe just fists, or swords, or the cheese of your choosing. Or maybe something a little different….

Something like…

Wait…

For…

It…

…

Man I can’t think of a good weapon! It’s so hard to think sometimes, you know? You just try to concentrATE AND THEN ALL OF A SUDDEN CAPITAL LETTERS EVERY WHERE GOD WHERE ARE YOU AAHHHH THIS IS SO TERRIFYING. THE WEAPON SHALL BE CAPITAL LETTERS, OH GOD THIS IS WORSE THAN THAT TIME I DRUNK-DIALED JANET RENO AND TOLD HER I LIKED HER HAIR CUT AND ALSO HER B.O.

It’s worth noting that I kept writing “Letteris” instead of “letters” (I DID IT AGAIN JUST NOW!!!! NOT EVEN ON PURPOSE!) That’s not even my goddam name. Why would I write Letteris and not Letteriis? Secret repressed self-loathing? Bitter antipathy against the patriarchy? against my family in particular? General aversion to making sense? We will perhaps never know.

4 Comments | Nougat | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Permalink
Posted by hornblower

2 March 2009 ?

Gotta blog hard, gotta keep at it. I’m up at 3:20 am, blogging my ass off, but I know that the other guys are up at 3:19, blogging their keisters straight on down the road to El Dorado. Gotta keep up with the best. Wanna beat the best, gotta keep up with ‘em first. Gotta want it. Gotta want it real bad. I’m blogging my ass off right now. God, I’m blogging so hard. No one blogs like I do! No one blogs like I do! I am vital! I am necessary to a thriving internet community! People depend on me for entertainment, news, redemption, meaning. It is my responsibility as a blogger to blog hard, always. Gotta blog hard, gotta be heard, gotta blog hard, gotta be heard. GOTTA BLOG HARD, GOTTA BE HEARD!

Leave a Comment » | Nougat | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Permalink
Posted by hornblower

2 March 2009 ?

Hey guys I want everyone to remember that we are all friendly here and let’s keep friends us. I know we have our differences but we can put those aside for the purpose of happy getting along. I think we all can know that friends are the best! Really big good times. Every time I do a drink with beer I get wilder, and sometimes it gets too funky! Just too damn funky! I have to reel it in, or I’ll go bonkers mental!

Leave a Comment » | Nougat | Permalink
Posted by hornblower

Hawk your wares

1 March 2009 ?

Caught the Bx12 bus last night, what a gas. Rode it for about an hour before I realized I had a dentist appointment the next morning and I needed to get some sleep. On the way back home I had a chat with Limburger Enzo about the octomom. He said he used to date her and that he rang her last week but got the answering machine. Then he forgot whom whe was calling and left a message with an order for a hundred hot wings and five liters of Sangria.

We got out the old mitts and the old rawhide and then decided we needed some new baseball equipment. We were on a bus, though, so we made do with what we had. Limburger Enzo is, after all, a child of the Depression. Thrifty, that one. I’d bet you anything he used a free transfer to get on the bus. He probably wasn’t even going anywhere; he just hates to see a free transfer go to waste.

1 Comment | Nougat | Permalink
Posted by hornblower

Light heavy, dark blue

1 March 2009 ?

Hot cow wow! Last night I caught the biggest trout I’ve ever seen! I caught it in the Ganges. I was with my friend Friendzo, and we were looking for pebbles to put in an empty honey jar. I was scooping handfuls gleefully, hollering like a wild baboon, when suddenly I spotted the mad green glint of the trout’s scales. Friendzo saw that I saw. I saw that he saw that I saw. He saw that I saw that he saw that I saw. The pebbles saw that he saw that I saw that he saw that I saw. And the trout saw nothing.

And I struck!

I plunged all three of my hands into the water, two grabbing the trout at each end, one rummaging for pebbles. Friendzo shouted “Okra magic!” and leapt out of the water to do push-ups on the shore. I raised the trout from the water and fed it some pebbles. He began to grow. He sprouted legs. His scales fell off and became diamonds. I held him to the sky and wept. Ouch! He bit me. Not too civilised, that one. Friendzo called to me, “O left, O right, wherefore this creature!” Suddenly it was dark. The trout grew wings and flew me to Friendzo. We opened the picnic basket. Mmm, pancakes. Soon, Friendzo had to leave for bocce lessons with Jan Stenerud. Just me and the trout, now, gazing out at the setting sun.  Dark fell on us and it hurt a little bit. Goddamn Dark. The trout was not expecting this from land. He wanted to return to the sea, but I reminded him that he had legs now.

And I sat and sat with him ’til dawn and would have counted the stars, if there’d been any.

1 Comment | Friendzo | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , | Permalink
Posted by hornblower

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