I watched TV for the 1st time in months. Moisture ribbons now? jeeeez.
Moisture pockets, moisture beads, moisture ribbons, what next? Moisture buttons? Moisture swirls? Moisture fuck you. Mother & Son Negotiation #1458762057724008Mother - Had It, Up to Here:
No, I said 45 minutes & I'm sticking to it. You say you could be a lawyer well then let's lawyer it up.
(premature response. kid 1 - mom 0)Son - Grounded for 2 Days, Charged w/ Sabotage, Argues Longtime:
Well, then I might as well give up. It's gonna take forever. Lawyer it Up:
Then give up. Doesn't hurt me
computer & it will take longer the longer you argue.Sabotager:
Ok then, I'm not doing it. It's not fair.
Fine you wanna give up go ahead. You wanna think I'm just being mean, fine. It's not like I never folded 100s
of loads of clothes for you. It's not like I never collected & carried your poop. in a trashbag. to the dumpster
*daughter snickering maniacally in background*. It's not like I never wiped your stinkin' butt
you know what every. time
you think I'm being unfair it's when I'm trying to TEACH you something I had to learn myself. You aren't grounded because I'm trying to be mean or unfair or bossy. I've your best interest at heart.
It's 15 minutes! What's another 15 minutes?!
15 minutes means I backed down. How about no
minutes? How about you do all the laundry & don't go on the computer at all
, because I'm the alpha & omega, because I'm
your Mr. Miyagi, Danielsan so WAX ON WAX OFF.
Ok. 45 minutes.
In which I am like the baby lemur I once saw @ the pet store, clinging to a wire & mesh effigy/emotopia, in which I thought I was finished with my period & that it was Friday as I drove to work today, in which our company hired a tranny:
Lately I am all red buttons & tripwire, more reticent by the day, maybe jaded, in need of a christening, my own genuflection, the ashes of something to scatter, locks to shear, a bow to break my bottle over.
Maybe I should go goth. Maybe I need a good ass-kicking. Maybe I need to kick some goth kids' asses. I have been taking a long way home to feel as though I’m going, as though I’m getting things done. The wind in my hair humors me.
There are things we need to say goodbye & hello to extravagantly, or else we will stay stuck wondering whether or what to quit or begin. The flick of a wrist ripples through generations, falls from yr fingers. You pass it to the next messenger like a baton in a relay race. You blow the kiss along in spite of where you got it. We revere ourselves celestial. Nothing else will on this thrown stone.
Maybe I need a mojo hand, to sculpt the chocolate likeness of you, a band named Voodoo Thunder & the Ceremonious Gestures, to clear history, to defrag, a mean streak, or to just change my middle name to Disappointed. I do not breathe on the dice. I do not light fires for good fortune.
I am too. I am always too something.