Tits keyboard ass typing
!happy !sad [<][equals][>] Unfortunate REALITY
separatist shmeparatist
lionize
If I only had a brain...
eye sea yore shenanigans
The shower was cold and the bird unexpected. Do you ever expect a bird? Perhaps if there were bread crumbs?
Papy was a drunk, he didn't recognize me at first. Sat at the table next to mine. Good friends all around, a couple new friends, perhaps. I have to go to work. I just left work. Papy recognizes me.
"I didn't recognize you!" I know.
"Can I join your team?" No.
"Yes." I say.
I warn my friends, they think I'm being cautious. They're right but for the wrong reasons.
Minutes later...
"So you're testing people for AIDS in three places in Thailand, don't you mean Bangkok."???
"Papy, listen to what we're saying, you're not listening, listen or..."
I didn't Finnish my sentence, I'm not enough of a dick, yet. Soon my dick will come out, large and in charge.
Papy, he's a druggie, not a bad one but a druggie. There may be no good kind but let's not split hairs, we're all druggies.
the pigeon gnaws at the brush
stained in bleach
I wash my armpits.
"Papppppppyyyyy" she screams as I explain the nuanced approach of the expert and the document object modelingisforpussy.
drink spilled DRINK spilled fuck.
The Crayfish is angry, too rich shoes and hand bag ruined, not my fault but still my fault. Papy you need to get yourself under control.
Papy is a nice Brit with a capital B. He was once a very nice man (I'm told) but now mostly just obnoxiously spills drinks on people's nice handbags. Once upon a time in a far away land he was an upstanding citizen, before the blow. Now he's talking about buying a new handbag, new shoes, new life? No. He's ATMing it and coming back crying like a human, like we all should cry. Because he's broken, because we're all broken. Some of us more than others.
The Crayfish is not OK. She has a spare [$]15,000 dollars [redundant] to spend on some project that she just couldn't handle dealing with and now the [country not to be named] whose [department not to be named] is going to take back the money. She can't even conceive of the steps to get to what she wants but at least she wants, better than Papy.
Crayfish doesn't ask me to do the job she just asks for contacts. Six months of my salary and all she wants is contacts? Fuck.
Maybe I'm no good? Maybe that's why Papy is here?
half a wing
a full wing
head bob and weave
garbage on the porch, pigeon might shit on it
I wash my stomach.
I have to go to work, still...forever, I loathe but have to do the due and dew the Dew. Walk threw the school, look at the power cables, talk to the psycho whom life has gifted with enough money to be a jerk to me.
It's not enough that Papy ruined [shoes and handbag] now he's waving his arms around like a fucking homeless man talking to god with a cigarette in Crayfish's face.
"Why can't I gesticulate?" Because you're annoying.
"You can gesticulate but stop putting your hands in our faces. Do you like this?" Hand in the face.
"I didn't do that."
Eventually Papy is paying for the second round of drink he's spilled on himself and others. Crayfish is kind and sweet and that's so out of character for her.
Pemberton is engaging his old friends
our new friends who aren't friends
except for this one night.
I love Pemberton,
he's not gay,
I'm not gay,
he's probably gay,
we're in love.
Dark cynical nihilist love.
Papy returns from ATMing [again], sobbing like a broken human paying for drinks his other Papy spilled. Two for too and we're off. Walk Papy out of the place [again] and this time he stays gone. Probably will have to explain this to him at a later date. Can't stand the thought of explaining this to him at a later date.
Fuck the world don't ask me for shit, everything you git you got to work hard for it.
--Biggie Smalls [&] Method Man
Mostly I read and write and type. the apartment is gaining dirt but the fan is clean. I took it apart.
There seemed like little else to do after it stopped working but now it's working again.
I think I've completely lost sight of the point of it. I see rich (I accidentally typed "right" originally, that's a scary thought) people succeeding at stuff in capitalism and I'm convinced more than ever that capitalism isn't actually doing anything that's getting us anywhere except fucked. Does that make me a player hater? Of course my convinced is tantamount to selecting a breakfast cereal and my passion for action is on a par with the subtle grade of the floor in my apartment which isn't even mine.
That's right folks! Nana is in NYC doing what she loves and I'm here doing what I love and there in lies the crux of the matter. How to resolve two variables that you're sure should be equal but aren't. Even when you've gone through all the code that codes anything. Type checking?
She's loving it, I'm enduring it. I had a heart to heart with a co-worker the other night. Thailand is "forever" for him. Not really surprised I must say. It's forever for a lot of people, and not just the Thais either. In fact less so for the Thais. Yes more of them live here but plenty of them would skip town if they could. I did.
In closing, this post was meant to remind that I'm alive and to respond to a particular request by a particular person that I write. Thank you.
Love, Adam
