The Slider
9.4.2k6

Ya hear of the phenomenon of The Phantom Limb? Wikipedia succinctly defines it as "the sensation that an amputated or missing limb is still attached to the body." Sensations experienced include warmth, cold, itching, pain or burning. It's really quite interesting and research into it suggests that even those born without limbs still experience the sensations in the null-limb even though they have never had "real" experience. Wow. That's fuct up!

I've read up on (Googled) the condition because I've got a little phantom "limb" thing going on: I'm like every other voter in America who puts his or her sunglasses up on top of his or her head when ducking in the booth to waste his or her vote. I also chuck 'em up there when at the magazine store, the Peet's™ coffee queue, the cinema, the gas station pay kiosk, the ATM, the shooting range, the doctor's office, the Sonic Youth show at the Wiltern, the Cuban restaurant, the architecture tour ticket office, the TSA security check-in and so on and so on. My sunnys are on top of my head so often that I feel them there even when they're not.

That really screws me up when, for example, I think I hear the ice-cream man down the street to the right and whip my head around to look and -oh crap!- my glasses go flying. This has happened a lot: I'm often whipping my head around to see if the freelance (gypsy) fruit and veg van really is pulling down my block or if the critical care van (ambulance) is headed my way or if the Kool-Aid™ dude (Punchy™) is fixin' to crash through my wall. I've head-whipped many pairs of sunglasses to their doom. Now I'm afraid to do it. Now I feel them suckers up there morning, noon and night. In- and outdoors. I must see a professional (shrink) about this phantom sunglasses sensation soon.

Tonight - The Homestead.

Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!


bye-ee!

whrr ... clik!

Hugh Grant
9.3.2k6

Most of you know that I moved to LA. Some of you know that I got a job a few months back in Hollywood. When I started the job, I stomped around the neighborhood during lunch and after work, exploring the weird place that is Highland Bd between Santa Monica Bd and Hollywood Bd.

None of you know what I found there: I found a new Worldview. I met some nice people and they talked to me and they made sense of this crazy world and my empty life and they help me get by and I get to say thank you by handing over my paycheck, and I'll tell you it's a bargain: My job don't pay for shit.

Anyway, one of the tenets of the Worldview is to purge oneself of secrets. I ain't got but one thing that I keep secret, so I'll fulfill my duty to the Worldview and spill. Here goes.

When I was a child I had three buttocks. The third was somewhat discrete in that it didn't really draw attention like a third arm or something, but it was not totally transparent. It forced me to walk with a hitch in an otherwise normal gait. What's more is that in the crack of the extra cheek there was a pseudo-anus that puckered when I would defecate, but otherwise was inert as it was not connected to my intestine. The third ass didn't really bother me and was actually a boon when I played little-league contact sports like ice hockey and football as I didn't need to pad that side of my ass. Sadly, though, my third ass was shot off by a Mex high on gold paint and mescal at a desert kegger in high school. The surgeon was a master with the scar and due to my incessant begging he relented and left the pseudo-anus and I thank the stars he did because it's a source of extreme erotic pleasure when my lover pinches, tongues and fondles it during sex. If she refuses, I throw her out of the car and drive off.

I love you all very much.

Tonight - Lucky 13.

Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!


bye-ee!

whrr ... clik!

Lechuga no no no no no.
9.2.2k6

You ever have a love/hate relationship? I ask because I just came to grips with the fact that I've got a love/hate thing going with SaranWrap™. I've been packing my lunch M-Th in order to save dough (and scratch that need to cook deluxe dishes) and I've been going through rolls of the plastic film. I love it because it's so great to make a sandy and wrap it up all easy-like. No need for Tupperware or ziplock bags. Made some cupcakes - wrapped 'em. Need some dressing to go with the salad? Put some on a bit of plastic wrap, carefully gather the edges up, twist and secure w/ rubber band. THEN just poke a hole in it when time to apply to greens and squeeze. AWESOME.
But then again, I hate the shit because I can NEVER get a sheet off the roll without having one part touch another and sticking to it forever. I don't have fingers small enough to find the seam and the bond is nearly molecular. It drives me nuts. I HATE Saranwrap™.

Tonight - Club Deluxe.

Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!


bye-ee!

whrr ... clik!

Titlist
9.1.2k6

The following is a partial transcript from a telephone conversation I had with my brother on September 7, 2001. (Thanks to Mrs. Pepper Sweetchunks for the transcription service.)

"Do you remember when we were children and we sponsored those neighborhood races?"

"We did a lot of races. We had the kids racing kids; the dogs racing dogs; the dogs racing kids; bikes against cars; bikes against skateboards; OH! and the swimming races. And remember the "Little People" races? Where we would take the Fisher Price wooden "Little People" down to the bottom of the deep end and let'm go and race to the surface?"

"Yeh but this one was between the snake and the spider?"

"I do remember that. What kinda spider was that?"

"I don't know."

"That was a good one. Why do you ask?"

"Something I never told anyone, and I'd forgotten about it until the other day. I spotted a small, cloth, draw-string bag washing down the gutter during a monster thunderstorm soon after the race. I picked it out of the gutter just before it washed into the sewer. I untied its strings and the snake and the spider fell out, dead. I'm sure it was the same ones we had raced."



Tonight - Tunnel Top.



whrr ... clik!

... clik.