There are millions of people out there in the world that play the original Ninendo games. I happen to be one of those fantastic one-of-a-kind female nerds. I make believe life is great and that there is a fiancé in the making and he is willing to play Jeopardy with me on my dusty NES system. If Tucson could build me such a life. The rest of my life is ridden with magazine elixers and underwear hanging on a fan after being handwashed (no I am not a third world child laborist). I’ll just entertain the rest of my year with mirages of myself as a new stage of my life.
And this scares me. Why would a restaurant flaunt that they use real, actual cheese as opposed to some artificial fake yellow goop that has the taste of cheese?
I can’t tell if this is just a promotional spot for KRAFT or what. The Kraft logo is the tiniest object of all so they seem to be pushing the REAL part of the meal. And did they at one point serve this without real cheese? Maybe a corn syrup & mustard combination.
Don’t pour vanilla extract in your measuring spoon over your mixing bowl when making brownies. Do it over the sink or elsewhere. When the recipe calls for 1/2 teaspoon and you accidentally overpour about 4 teaspoons, the final result doesn’t taste so good. I am eating my mistake and I can’t make another batch because I ran out of sugar. It ain’t worth the “e-browns” (electronic-brownies) to scrounge around for a cups worth of sugar packets and fill in the balance with sweet chocolate and other substitutes and prostitutes.
Spillling what I will call VanEx
Spelling what I will cull Xanax
It’s a paradox to kill love. Divorce doesn’t do anything. Death doesn’t nullify anything except a marriage certificate. Splitting up doesn’t set anyone free. Grown out of love? Is love some plantable life that can be destroyed? I’d like to think of it as an immortal plant. When it dries from lack of water, it just feels the hurt of dehydration, enduring the abandonment. Disregarded by the sun, it has nothing to see except itself… alone. No longer basking in the comforting warmth that is present everyday. But when the sun is part of your galaxy, you still know it is there when covered by clouds.
she couldn’t understand how you can just not love someone anymore
Communication. Is crucial for understanding. The question is not of love, but how complex intricate abstraction is intercepted between two people. Maybe ideas of hope were mistaken for love.
I love communication; although it falls short of expressing definitively unanimous thoughts, especially when the surface (the fundamental idea[s]) is the perimeter and there lies a voluminous mass of multi-dimension to be explored. It’s the fault of arbitrary division within a continuum. Language has no way of explaining itself outside its system, and to chunk things into categories destroys the nonlinear motives of the mind. Decay, decoy. Relay, recoil. Somehow we get by. Aristotelean methods are survivable.
Laying it on you easy with a euphemism contradictorily shows you are masking a deeper issue, which is harder on the euphem-ee.
I now ponder whether it is possible to love more than one person? But then I go into the communication problem of whether I understand what I say to myself. What is love? Sure, there are probably many varieties. I guess I love everybody. And I already knew that; Questions seem to be more understandable than answers. Why?
A normal serving of Caffeinated Soap will dish out 200 mg of caffeine directly into your body. No eating of the soap is required. Just cleanse yourself with this and feel rejuvinated. Shock Soap is the new cocaine.
In the name of productivity do people turn into products.
This is a picture of raw caffeine in white crystalline powder. Looks a bit like cocaine, but it’s much more legal and widespread. Even narcs use it.
Google seems to think so…
Psychics are so psychotic that they forget the “ot” in Psych-ot-ic. They actually get paid to have a psychological condition. Makes me happy that complexicated people can get respect for being dysfunctional. Reminds me of
Damnit! There goes my memory. AReGHuh!*&@^#$%@#$
It reminded me of ? all of the sudden then decided it didn’t want to recall it in time for me to jot it down after taking a little break. Stupid short term memory. Let me give it a minute [minute goes by] and it never came. Maybe in a week I’ll finish this post but it’ll go live anyhow.
Not because I don’t read. I love books. I write books. I read slow though and don’t have enough patience to write books on books. Maybe that will change and I’ll put a few jolly good paragraphs here for everyone to read.
My lazy side says I’d rather make a poem about a book or something easier like dream about it.
I’m so excited today. Someone from Peguin got in touch with me to publish a novel I wrote. It looks like they will make a limited run and see how well it does. I don’t have an agent or anything either, so I’m stoked that it has gotten attention.
The novel is almost a love story, but it has nothing to do with love. It’s a twisted tale of a woman who sees the drastic flux in New York City from when she was young to now. I’m not at liberty to tell you the title, but I will keep you posted about any important events.
-hitchhiking to Mexico. Be back when I can find a ride back…
Before and after pics of food in advertising to the actual thing. One more reason to not eat fast food.