Philip K. Fantasy meets Mr. ED

Most of yesterday took place in a typical fashion, at least the brecchie of toasted frog. Trish used up all the maple syrup, so after I left the Invisible Soup Kitchen for lunch -- a Polish dog with Kathy -- I walked over to Fat Albertson's, where I also grabbed some more milk, margarine, & tortillas for Trish. They were out of Light syrup, but said it'd be in by today. Trish wants to go over there, anyway, to buy cheese for her quesadillas.

Then, having redone the hyperlinks on "Andy Morlock's Dead", a spice odyssey, I attempted to publish it to the web. Using IE7, I tried to drag & drop the files to "publish this folder to the web", & got a wizard in response. I called Vinnie at Stellar, he said to bring the box in on Tuesday. I couldn't wait that long, so I called OneWest. The guy told me how to do it with copy-&-paste, right-clicking, but -- & this is really weird -- IE shows the revised version, but Firefox doesn't.

Then the Mighty Insect Slayer arrived. I fixed a tater tot casserole for supper, while she played Penguins. About suppertime she turned into Cranky Bear. I think it could have been due to our upcoming trial of Viagra.

So we watched a porno-vid of a bunch of lesbians doing stuff. We started at 9:00 & I finally quit around 1/4 to 11:00, as I had to pee real bad. I think this is the reason I couldn't cum, or perhaps it was the Fantasy: K. & decadent. Trish felt lousy in bed, but I think that the Risperdal is still causing the orgasm death, on top of which I had to pee, which has always made it difficult to climax in the past. Tonite, we're trying again, & this time not so much water. & no K. Fantasy, filioque or otherwise, it just hurts Trish. 'Cause she's the Bumble Bee Girl. She goes bouncy-bouncy.

Day of the living doctors

Yesterday Trish & I spent a long-distance runaround seeing diverse doctors. Trish discovered me working on my computer when she got up to take her Synthroid, & discovered me working without my glasses. This inspired Savage Dread. I had planned to make an appointment with the Invisible Optometrist sometime when she wasn't around, to spare her the anxiety.

I let Trish sleep in until 9:00. We had corn flakes for brecchie, as I only fix pancakes or toasted frog days Trish has to work. So since my writing without lenses had freaked her out, I called Invisible Optometric as soon as possible. I got in around 10:40, but Trish became distracted with her crocheting, lost track of time, & then became Cranky Bear when I told her we had to split 'cause we had no time to waste.

The doctor ran a refraction: a marginal change in the top element, but the bifocal (separated from the pre-existing trifocal) will simply be like looking at the computer without glasses.

Before we returned home, we stopped at Waste Fargo to cash the 30 buckadingdong check Fearless Taco sent as a late X-mas present. Awhile later, we walked over to the Invisible Soup Kitchen; salvation a la mode & etc. We had sketti, garlic bread, corn, salad, pea soup, & a maple donut with a cream filling -- actually, I did, Trish had a maple bar. Afterwards we went shopping at Albertson's for ingredients for a tater tot casserole.

Once we'd finished putting away the groceries Fred showed up, to collect the 20 buckadingdongs I owed him for paying Stellar when we had the computer fixed. We jammed a little on Crystal Ship, then the phone rang: Karen the Kaseworker (Karen Relationships hates us), wanting to know if the computer'd been fixed, at which point Fred left.

Trish became even more stressed out over her crocheting before our Medicaid run out to the Invisible Clinic to see Dr. Nolan about the famous Mr. ED. I told him I'd researched my meds; that haldol is notorious for the orgasm death; that Risperdal also does many of the same things. We discussed the possibility of going off the Risperdal as well as the Depakote, to reduce the drug salad I'm on -- won't give up the sleeping pills, woke up at 5:00 AM, & that's on 2, don't want to take 3 on a regular basis or I'll build up even more of a tolerance.

So the doc claimed that, if I could break the Viagra in 1/2, I could take it with Cardura; that if I wanted some other blood pressure med, I could take the whole thing, but I'd have to have my blood pressure monitored daily after the upcoming long weekend.

The Invisible Taxi deposited us at Creative Leisure, where Trish bought a secret Santa gift for some jerk at work she really can't stand.

Once home, I put our chicken thighs in the oven, or as Willow puts it, "I'm a breast girl myself". After we ate our chicken, as well as some over-baked potatoes I fixed in the microwave, we watched Disc #2 of Battlestar Galactica.

Once in bed, we discussed what we were going to do sexually tonight, as well as for the rest of the 6 pill sample the doctor gave us. We have to wait until the cardura is out of my system before we can shoot non-dying orgasms. The instructions say to take 1/2 hour before sex, so tonight after supper we're going to turn the ringer off -- a telemarketer interrupted us the last time. We will then put on The Erotic Ghost, a short porno-flick that's predominantly lesbian; I'm a breast guy myself. Then I want to fuck her little ass off. Then the next couple times I take the pill, we'll do other stuff, like blow jobs, hand jobs, & titty fucking. Normally, we do all those things for about 1/2-1 hour before I have a frustratingly weak climax that yields no ejaculation. I'm worried that, with the drug, we won't have time to squeeze in everything in one shot, so my initial intent is to make sure that I cum inside her, so she can finally stop being Kimothy Leery.

Trish has started talking bisexual again, & I'm scared that maybe she'll try to act out a Philip K. Fantasy once more. I also rather stupidly asked the other night, "If I ever got rich, would you want breast implants?" At that time, I was actually just wondering what to do if I ever became fabulously wealthy, & said it because I know she's insecure about her breast size. It was a stupid thing to say, 'cause all day yesterday she went braless.

So tonight if boy shoot white stuff she'll be happy.

great walls of fire

My FTP (may) finally be fixed. Wednesday went typically, except that I still wanted to work on my web pages, & called support at OneWest a c0uple times. They claimed that the problem wasn't on their end, that I should take it in to the shop.

A call to Iron Claw Tech revealed that I needed to take it elsewhere, & John suggested Vinnie over at Stellar, in the Atrium mall.

I called Fred for a ride, fear & loathing in the batmobile, then we put the computer into Vinnie's hands. After 1/2 hour -- 20 buckadingdongs -- they claimed the machine was working again, so we took it home.

Kim-like, Kathy rang the doorbell just when we were cleaning Ula-tek's cage. Trish became a little jealous & threatened, once again, as with Kim, told Kathy to call first -- Kathy has no phone.

Trish felt better after her bath, then I accidentally busted the wire that holds up the water bottle in Ula-tek's cage. Trish's tempera flared a little, but her anxiety eased when Kathy brought over a pair of pliers to crimp the wire.

Since we had plenty of leftover roast, we let Kathy eat with us. After supper we started the Battlestar Galactica mini-series for her, but, claiming she was tired, left when it was 1/2 way thru. I, too, was tired & napped in my chair for about an hour.

Then I couldn't sleep until after midnight, so I finally took a 3rd sleeping pill. I don't want to get into the habit of doing that Did it again last night, 'cause we ate at El Taco Loco & consumed mass quantities of soda.

Thursday morning, after I still got a proxy warning sign from IE 7, I called Stellar. David said Vinnie was out on a service call, but that, "one way or another, we'll get it working". We had planned to eat lunch at the soup kitchen, but I got hungry, so we broke out the TV dinners. Stellar called just when I started my Mexican meal, but I asked them to wait until I'd finished lunch.

When I called back, Vinnie asked for my address, so I waited for him on the porch, super-Kool with the rain-turned-ice of the day before, & the overnight 4 inches of snow.

I turned the music way down low & let him work. After about 1-1/2 hours he determined that the problem was a firewall issue, & that I need to temporarily turn it off while using FTP. He didn't charge anything extra, which was wonderful.

Trish had to pick up some meds at Western Drug, so when she left, asked me to shovel the walk. Someone dropped Kathy off just a ways away, & she volunteered to finish the job.

When she left, Trish & I went to the bank, to withdraw some money for the weekend. We owe Fred $20, as he fronted for me at Stellar, Trish has to buy some jerk at work a secret Santa gift certificate, & spending cash.

On the way home, we ate at the Crazy Taco joint -- at the old prices; with the hike in the minimum wages they need to raise their prices. But at least they're giving you a pop with the daily specials.

We watched a couple music videos, then had some real atomic sex. I actually ejaculated a little bit, & it didn't take an hour. Maybe there's still haldol in my system. Maybe Mr. ED will go away without me going off Risperdal.

Then we watched some TV, ate the rest of the roast beast, & I fell right asleep.

Tomorrow I'll work on my website, starting with "Andy Morlock's Dead". The hyperlinks to Dead#1-9 are busted, & I don't know why.

Today I have an appointment with the doctor about Mr. ED. Since it's getting better, I'll tell him that, but I'll also ask if the Abilify is affecting my blood pressure, so maybe I could reduce my drug salad a little.

X-mas 2006

Happy New Year. I'm not pushing the envelope right now, as I'm having problems using FTP with my website. Morlock seems to have suffered some bizarre form of virus(?)/hacker(?) attack, with every file except Dead#1-9 being busted. I can't log onto these 9 files. Technical support at OneWest.net hasn't been terribly helpful. The last person I talked with said, "It's not our job to provide support for outside products".

The built-in FTP in Internet Explorer worked fine yesterday, save for me being unable to specify the server as the address bar in Windows Explorer was hidden. I called Bear Paw Technologies & the guy there had me uncheck "lock toolbars" & the thing worked just fine, save that I decided to wait until today to experiment with it again. Now, it gives me a message saying, "the proxy needs to be reset".

I hope OneWest can help me, or won't be stubborn enough not to want to, as I don't really need a $50 bill for fixing a software problem. We just had the plumber in here to fix a gas leak.

Trish has tomorrow & Friday off, works Saturday, then has Sunday off. I won't really be able to do much writing this week, it appears, because of all the days off. Since my current project is to redo the hyperlinks on my personal site, so that they all point toward the iUniverse page where my book is featured, making it clickable, I have to wait until the FTP is fixed to resume writing.

I think that it's a software problem. Awhile ago, I downloaded WS_FTP, a pay-program that allows a 30-day grace period. When that ended, I downloaded a free FTP -- then another 2, none of which worked. When I tried IE7, it gave me a message that WS_FTP had been made the default. I tried to remove the program, but apparently there are elements of it still present. I may need to take the machine into the shop.

Other than that, I'm fine. I bought Battlestar Galactica for Trish -- for both of us -- & she's been really enjoying it.

X-mas day, the 2 of us for the most part watched Battlestar Galactica, save for eating our feast -- we had a huge, envelope-free, pot roast. & lots of phone calls. Joe spoke briefly on his cell phone, John called, Dan called, & Biggie didn't, 'cause of the skinny dog. On Trish's side of the family, we caught Dion at Ro's house, but Kenneth, being hard of hearing, couldn't understand Trish & went to eat. Even Hope called.

X-mas Eve, with the computer busted, I felt too depressed to go to church. Instead we watched Trish's Britney thing.

I am Captain Zoom. I think hypomania may have hit me, as I'm sleeping less, but not really missing it.

cyber-death

As I'm sure you are aware -- as every child of the 60s was -- that Timothy Leary pushed acid, was arrested, incarcerated, & was eventually paroled for ratting on some of his old buddies in the Black Panthers & the Weathermen. What most people aren't aware of is that in the 80s Tim really began to push the envelope. He kept sending me letters in envelopes that were actually entire sheets of hi-powered blotter acid. The first time I dropped envelope it kept me high for 3 days of fun & music (I have a big stereo, which is great to listen to while stoned). I finally killed the envelope buzz by taking a high dose of thorazine.

Now, it is my turn to push the envelope: I found a whole stash of old envelopes, which, whatever he put on them, has retained its kick for 20 years.

So did you ever read "Andy Morlock's Dead"? www.onewest.net/~jbauer/morlock.htm It's currently #3 in the Velvet Underground Webring. (The Velvet Underground being Andy Warhol's band, famous for songs like "Heroin" ("When the Heroin is in my blood & the blood is in my head then I'm better off than dead.") or "Waiting for the Man" ("He's got the works, gives you a sweet taste, & then he's got to split 'cause he's got no time to waste.")) I intend to make Morlock #1 by completing the story -- that would be Morlock's Twin, the same way Judas Didymos Thomas was Jesus' twin. After all, Morlock & Lead are both reanimated in the bodies of twin women.

I'm trying to use my web pages as a way to push my book, while in turn pushing the envelope in regard to the writing. I'm going thru my websites to add hyperlinks straight to the page where you can purchase the book.

Rewriting Morlock will be one phase of this project. In the story we have an initial section, Dead#1-Dead#9, for which "Twin of Morlock" will be the sequel. To make sure it's written in its proper state, I'll eat my entire supply of envelopes, while all of my VU discs are in the changer. Doing it this way should keep it close to the original, which I wrighted (with both hemispheres) while on a nutmeg binge. (Nutmeg can have psychedelic effects when made into herb tea.) Unfortunately, nutmeg drives up blood & ocular pressure; I have problems with both; I can't use it. This leaves me with my trusty stash of envelopes.

I should be able to finish "Twin of Morlock" Tuesday & Wednesday, when Trish is back at work. Writing psychedelic word salad, with or without psychedelic drugs isn't all that hard; the problem is that I somehow screwed up my FTP. A couple years ago, I downloaded WS_Ftp for a free trial. At that point, I uploaded links to www.iuniverse.com , but left it to the reader to sort thru the search engine & find the book. Now, I've decided to create hyperlinks directly to the page where you can order the book.

So the grace period on WS_FTP expired & my dreams tarried into oblivion, at least until I was Abilified. Once I decided to work seriously with my web pages again, I downloaded a free FTP -- & another, & another; none of them worked. The tech at OneWest told me I could ftp for free off Internet Explorer 7, & my brother Joe figured out how, when I called just before he left for Denver. However, I kept getting these annoying messages saying, "You have chosen to make WS_FTP your default FTP. Continue with WS_FTP? Yes? No?". Although this was a mere nuisance, I tried to uninstall WS_FTP, & therein lies my error. What I did apparently affected all FTPs globally. If none of my brothers or my friend Ted from the Internet can't figure out how to repair the system, we'll have to take it into the shop.

This comes at a particularly bad time, as Trish has doctor bills from her foot surgery, we had to call the plumber (twice) to fix a gas leak in the basement, & they're only giving us $10.00 in food stamps.

Even with the FTP busted, the adventures of Lead on the silver moon must be written. I'll start today, before Trish wakes up -- even though I took 3 sleeping pills last night, I woke up at 5:30 anyway.

Merry X-mas & happy New

pushing the envelope

I spent all my free time yesterday preparing for an envelope trip. Timothy "Nicotine Tim" Leary used to send me letters in envelopes that were actually entire sheets of hi-powered blotto acid.

& of course you're familiar with "Andy Morlock's Dead", which I wrote on a nutmeg binge. (It is a little known fact that nutmeg is a psychedelic drug. You make herb tea out of it or smoke it.) While still living in the Space Capsule, & without my atomic bong (the best way to write a story), I holed up upstairs one night with typewriter torment harrowing me, got up to "Dead#9", then quit just after Lead turned into a woman; girly-girl with tits delightful; slithy toves. In short, I didn't finish the project, which is now #3 on the VU webring. Starting Tuesday, when Trish is back at work, I'll drop a hit of envelope, put in all my Velvet Underground CDs, & create something magic while blown away.

When Trish came home, she brought along a really delightful tray of veggies lifted from the salad bar, then took her shower while I called wako. I fixed something vaguely Oriental from canned stir fry veggies, a packaged Rice-a-Roni knock off, & chicken tenders. We have all kinds of leftovers, but nonetheless will cook the roast beast; some of the chicken chow mein can go in the freezer, if needs be.

When we were almost prepared for TV, I asked Trish to worship at the temple of Ooga-Chugga, & we both became a little Leery after she sucked on my ding-dong. It was just like Sister Ray said.

Then we watched disk #2 of Battlestar Galactica. 5 episodes; during the first, Joe called, & talked about computers, what else? Trish had me pause it once, for laundry, then continued to do the laundry non-stop. We eventually made it into the maws of Toastie Bear, & the temezapam kicked in. 'Cause when the tranks begin to flow then I really don't care any more about all the Scientologists making crazy sounds.

Son of Morlock

Just the other day, I finally got my FTP up & running, & was finally able to download "Andy Morlock's Dead," a savage psychedelic collaboration with Timothy "Nicotine Tim" Leary. I wrote the story when Tim was really pushing the envelope. "Nicotine" Tim used to send me letters in envelopes which were actually entire sheets of hi-power blotto acid.

I couldn't work on it yesterday, as Trish & I made a sojourn to the Layout, in order to make cookies with Ashley Upstairs. We both enjoyed ourselves immensely.

But the Invisible Record Store didn't have Battlestar Galactica in yet, so I had Fearless Fred take me up to Sam Goody's & cancelled with the other place. Trish & I stayed up late watching it while she did laundry.

I'm losing more of my vision again, but don't want to tell Trish that. It'll just contribute to her anxiety -- but right now I can see the computer screen better with my glasses off than on.

I have to leave for lunch soon. I'll be taking back Aliens vs. Predators while picking up a few groceries at Albertson's, after I stop & eat at the soup kitchen.

infinite insane techno-babble (happy Taco Jack)

Yesterday Trish & I relaxed in the morning, drinking our Scooby-Dew while she prepared to see Charlene Upstairs. I started Heavy Metal when she was almost ready to leave; she came back all smiles, & not Cranky Bear.

I called to see if the Layout would be open. Ashley was working that afternoon, but it was 1:00-3:00, when Trish had her TA with Car-girl. She ran us by the bank, to pick up some buckadingdongs towards X-mas presents & for shopping.

We also took out $37.26 in a money order for my Dayton Audio full-ranges, to repair the old Rectilinears. That should sound real atomic. The SPL should go as hi-fi as she can go -- that's the point of PA equipment -- but being PA & not hi-fi, it won't sound as good as a hi-fi unit -- but you try to find a 5" full range on the web & see what I mean. But I'd printed up the wrong form, so I had to take the letter home. This morning I fixed it.

After Trish left with Car-girl, I put on The Doors, & Mr. Mojo Risin' played to an Invisible audience of one. At least Kimothy didn't try to come over & influence me.

Trish bought me a sausage & cheese basket as an early X-mas gift. We snacked on cheese & crackers -- the soup kitchen served a big meal -- until evening, then went out to El Taco Loco for nachos for me & a chicken enchilada for Trish.

Then we went home & I called Fearless Taco, to discuss my problems with the 3 free FTP downloads I have. Something is blocking them.

Taco Jack was cooking, so I talked to Joe instead. He figuired out how to use Internet Explorer as an FTP, & gave me instructions for doing it -- but sounded a little condescending on the book; I am the scapegoat for the family (including Biggie's undiagnosed mental illness); I am a pariah. See me bleed.

So after I got off the phone with Marianne, we watched the extended version of Aliens vs. Preditors(&editors), until John finally called. He thinks maybe I need to edit the registry, but I entered it this morning & couldn't figure out what comes next, so I'll wait on that. What might be the problem is that WS_FTP didn't get fully erased when I used "remove software" on it, & that it's interfering.

If I have further questions, I'll ask Ted. We have to discuss our future writing projects, anyway. On the one hand, I admire his ability to generate techno-babble but, even though he's definitely developing the characters better than I usually do (my characters are symbols: I am Lead), the whole thing is starting to sound like a Harlequin romance -- one of my projects is to fuck over Harlequin Ellis & fuck the Invisible Hog, he's a pig anyway: Motorcycle Messiah, not to mention Floyd & the lunatic is on the grass.

Trish & I plan to attend the Layout when Ashley (non-Olson) invited us to come between 10:00 & 2:00. Trish is starting to become paranoid over Bryan's stomach surgery, but he has difficulties dealing with social entities beyond "I".

Now I go to experiment with my FTP. If it doesn't work I'll just see who's around in the chat rooms. I told Ted not to send back TC/MR until tonite, so I don't have time to work on a story. My next project after TC (unless Stan likes PE) will be Noc-Lar, followed by a mainstreamed Mind-Warp, then Arn, then Bio-Psych, then Metatron. Assuming I don't go blind. Typewriter fever, it harries me still, if only a doctor could give me a pill & fuck the Scooby Club, I can sail submarines if I want to.

Alien vs. Mr. ED

All I did yesterday after Trish left for work was talk with Tech Support at OneWest about my 3 free FTPs. None of them work, & Car-girl promised to have Jeremy Bender come by sometime & take a look at it.

I took the movie back, & at the same time picked up Alien vs. Predator -- where Mr. ED is concerned, it's Risperdal to blame, & all you sweet, pretty Scientologists with your sweet talk, you can all go take a walk.

So around supper time I thought that I smelled gas. Paranoia reigned over me; Jeffer Auss couldn't smell a thing.

Trish turned into Cranky Bear while I took my bath earlier in the evening. She was writing in her blog & it crashed. She had a good dream about her father this morning.

disappointments

Tuesday was a disappointing day, not just for me, but for Car-girl; doubly sad 'cause Keith's dad, though he's recovering, is in the hospital, & Bonnie's mother died.

A lot of activity filled the day. The plumber showed up while I was busy surfing the darkened seas. He claimed there was no leak, as far as he could tell, but went & did a bunch of stuff anyway, leaving us no doubt stuck with a major bill for Trish & I to try to pay out of her part-time job.

Then I ran over to the soup kitchen. The preacher, a new guy, had a southern accent; I mean, talk about your Southern Baptists, I mean, this bozo actually believes the Holy Spirit dictated every word of "the Bible" (the King James version) himself. Other than that, the nachos & burrito tasted good. The cook they have now was a chef for 20+ years, so the food isn't bad, & I'll be eating there again before taking Spiderman 2 back to Albertson's.

The disappointment was that the vid-store still has Battlestar Galactica, the first season, still on back order.

But my problems pale into insignificance compared to Car-girl's. When I called to let her know that the DVD hadn't arrived yet, she sounded depressed, so I asked why: failing grades, a C- (OK, so that prof is willing to work with her to raise the grade) & an F.

We did TA anyway as I wanted to be supportive of her. She showed me the paper, which admittedly went off-topic in free-form manic tangents, but the professor sounds both ignorant & arrogant: he told her in class -- & she correctly argued against him -- that the mental health system doesn't help people, & that "there's no such thing as mental illness". Looks like he just intended to find any excuse to fail her.

I got Kristified on soda, so I took my temazepam at 8:00 & fell promptly to sleep at bedtime.

I also discovered what's creating the famous Mr. ED. It's the Risperdal. I'm going to ask about tapering off it instead of the Depakote.

Gotta go now. Have to fix brecchie, especially for inflicting the Karen Relationship on me.

again w/ the HOT or NOT rejections...

...or don't they ever read your profiles on this site? I specifically state in my profile that I'm a married man, have gone so far as to search for married women, in order to not-be rejected when someone finds out (I could make it worse by asserting that I'm insane), & then they go ahead & reject me, as soon as you send them an email. That happened this morning, & what's the point of a chat room if you can't chat? The futility of it all... I am married, I don't need to "meet" anyone, I guess that I just want to build up a long double-match list to prove to myself that I'm still attractive. It all reduces to Vadisadism. I had no one for so many years, years of alienation exasperating VADIS & being tormented over it by Alfalfa High that I need to prove now that I'm not ugly -- though my rating is only 6 (I might do better with a new photo) some women respond kindly. I feel, though, that I'll be spending less time on the site in the coming days.

Speaking of coming, Dr. Nolan's nurse informed me yesterday that everything they make for ED is dangerous for people with high blood pressure or a history of heart problems. I told her that I thought it was 'cause of the haldol in my blood & the blood was in my head (& I was better off than dead), but the problem's persisted, even though my last shot was 11/06. I told her perhaps it was one of my other meds, but that it sounded like I'd just have to put up with it. She responded by asking me to make an appointment with the doctor, anyway, & I sort of feel like it's already a wasted trip.

Our heater down in the basement is still busted. The plumber came in yesterday, "fixed" it, then when I went downstairs to fetch a can of something, I smelled gas. The plumber had shown me where to turn off the gas, but it was too close to closing for someone to come out.

Trish really turned into Cranky Bear last night. I don't know why. For the last week, she'd been stressing out/paranoid that "my father hates me, because he won't talk to me on the telephone", so I sent him an email asking him to call. He responded with a nice note, but the euphoria only lasted so long. Earlier, we'd been to Albertson's to shop for milk, eggs, & assorted sundries, so Trish skipped her shower. Since Charlene Upstairs told her to clean some at night after work so she could enjoy her day off, she's now entered a housecleaning, manic frenzy that really disallows her any time to spend with me. I had skipped my bath for a couple of days, so I wanted to take one. Trish responded that she "had" to clean the bathroom", but finally decided to just do the dishes & make the bed. After a quick bath, I played the keyboard some, trying to learn "The Crystal Ship".

I tried running it thru my stereo again, but kept the volume cautiously low: I don't want to blow my state-of-the-art Radio Shack woofers with deep bass tones from a musical instrument; I blew the tweeter on my Jantzen's that way; & the bass is both powerful & low. At least the Dayton Audio full-range Trish is ordering me for X-mas -- a PA driver (not as hi-fi as she can go) -- will be next to impossible to blow. If anything else blows on the Rectilinears, it's being replaced by PA drivers, perhaps even piezo tweeters, if the Pioneer dome tweeters should fail. It's just that it'd be cheaper to swap out the parts than to buy a musical instrument speaker.

So today, I'm fixing pancakes again. I hope the dirty burner doesn't cause Trish too much anxiety. Last night, when cooking some chicken surprise, it boiled over on me & got in the burner. Since it falls apart when you take it out to clean it, Trish wants a new burner, even though it'd make more sense just to move the old oven from the basement upstairs -- she's hysterically opposed to that idea. She says we have the buckadingdongs in the bank, we should spend them -- spend, spend, spend; I'm getting sick of it -- so why don't we just get a new "burner part"? OK, let's see how the plumber bill works out. No, we need a new burner part; why can't we buy a new burner part? Well, for one thing, she doesn't realize the price of groceries, & we only got 10 buckadingdongs worth of food stamps this month.

Also (sprach Zarathustra), I learned from wako last night that Bonnie's mom passed away the night before last. Keith's father is also in the ICU. I hope he enjoys the CDs I burned for him. They may be one of the few things to brighten up his holiday. Did you ever see the faces of the children, they get so excited..?

another fine addition to the book of yesterdays

All right, so I don't remember everything I did yesterday or Saturday, partially 'cause I'm taking "pills" that the Scooby Club & the Scientology whackos are trying to take off the market, but they've worked wonders for me. If you've ever looked on the face of the Abyss & lived, then you'd know what I mean: filioque fantasy.

Yesterday after Trish left for work I attempted to operate the various FTP programs I've downloaded, but none of them work. I'll be on the line to technical support about it shortly. I ate the last of the frozen dinners for lunch yesterday, & we had leftover sketti for supper; I consumed the remainder for lunch today.

Wagner Plumbing repaired our leaking gas line this morning, & I sat around, waiting to hear from the Dr. about Viagra. I can't have it, but the nurse decided that I should schedule an appointment, anyway.

I'm not certain if I should play my keyboard thru my old Rectilinears any more. I'm afraid of blowing the state-of-the-art woofers. I really need a guitar amp to run them thru. At least the patch cord only cost 7 buckadingdongs.

daze of sorrow, past

Just got off the phone with wako. These days are full of sorrow for him: his dad is dying, while Bonnie's mother has also taken a turn for the worse. I pray to the God beyond God that Bonnie & Keith won't both be sent into a terrible depression over it. Even the joy of Christmas may forever be torn from their minds, even Keith's at opening my gift. Karen will take them out to him Monday.

Thursday Trish spaced out her mammogram. All we both did was to relax. Friday we ate at the Layout, where Cheri burned some leftover enchiladas. Remind me not to go back on leftover day. We cashed our checks from Karen & went grocery shopping. We rented Spiderman 2 at the camera bar; I think that the guy laughed at her for wanting him to special order Ace Ventura for her.

Saturday, Fred came by to help plug the keyboard into the stereo. I'm a little leery of the bass. It's so powerful & might potentially blow the woofers. If they do blow the repair'll be around $40-60 for PA drivers, which are what will go in the 5" hole in the Rectilinears. Turning down the bass is another option. Or playing low, like Muhammad's radio (drugstore truckdrivin' man).

Trish is also getting really leery over Kimothy. I told Trish last nite while we snuggled with Snuggle-uppagus that I'd go ahead & ask Dr. Nolan for something for ED. I thought it was just the haldol, but my last shot was a month & 1/2 ago, so it's time to do something.

I also had to send Trish's dad an email asking her to please call home. She's really upset that he doesn't talk to her any longer.

Now I must go & swap out the discs in the changer before I work on the SmartFTP I downloaded yesterday morning. I'm going to do a total re-make/re-model of my website, particularly pushing the envelope on Andy Morlock.

heater

I forgot to mention that the other night Trish smelled gas when bringing a can of pineapple up from the downstairs. I'd noticed the same smell, but thougt it was the heater burning off dust. The Northwestern Energy emergency guy came about 1/2 hour later & turned off the heater. We plan to fix it with some of Trish's money from work. Her SSI is going to hospital bills.

R.mania, City (of Invisible) in the Sky

So after I'd arrived at the Layout Dec. 12th for the X-mas dinner (no turducken; Cheri didn't want to bone the thing) Joe brought in this 18-year old foreign exchange student from Armenia, who wants to become a psychologist. She came & sat by me, & almost pursuaded me to tell my story about Muhammad Boxer; I don't think she'd know who Hitman S. Hunter is/was. Then she went off to help in the kitchen. Shortly before the meal, Jan came in & parked herself beside me. Fred even attended, sitting next to Elina (from R.mania).

When it came time to take Trish home her plate of turkey & ham, Fred drove me over. I managed to pursuade him to stay for one side of an old vinyl LP of the Mahavishnu Orchestra.

Wednesday I mostly worked on TC. Tomorrow morning I'll send a draft, no matter how incomplete, to Ted, for him to work on over the weekend. There's a lot that needs to be done in the way of editing, particularly making the characters' dialogue sound like it hasn't been written by 2 authors. The fight scene at the end needs to be pumped up, too.

Trish did some housecleaning after our chicken-fried steak. Jeffer Auss came over about the time Trish started V, which is this terribly cheesy skiffy thing from the 80s, following which Jeff put in a 5-movie DVD, of which he & Trish watched the first part; I fell asleep in my chair. She realized this & asked Jeff to leave, that I needed to sleep -- I had trouble sleeping the night before, plus I think the Scientology-fucking temazapam had hit me like a hangover.

I'm also going to try to see if I can get SmartFTPClient to run on my computer. I'd like to remake/remodel my web pages to include numerous direct links to the iUniverse bookstore. That might lead to an occassional sale. I'm so disappointed with the P.O.D., & in myself, for submitting there.

Also, because of my worsening vision, after TC, I'll drop out of Critters. They've met their limit for helpfulness, I can always run Jim/Ted collaborations thru on Ted's ticket, but I can no longer read the stories. I've been in the group for years, but I've never sold a story, mostly 'cause my Muse has fled without the U-boat. When I was an atomic submarine Captain, words would flow like rivers to the Suf Sea, now I struggle to transcend Critters referring me to Strunk & White. Submarine warfare is the best source of inspiration for SF.

Trish & I plan to skip the Layout today. It'll be time for her to watch videos, so I'll at least see what I can do with this FTP stuff. I also have to write Stan a brief PS, stating that I'd be willing to do "Alive, She Cried" as a stand-alone piece, rather than as part of a serial. The Crystal City is being filled with Troglodytes. I also need to write a note to Dion, to go with his autographed copy of the Original Masters. Or, as Timothy "Nicotine Tim" put it, "What we don't need now is more new chemicals, what we do need is a new chemical phlosophy for the space age".

happy, happy, ham-ham-hamster?

The hamster had been knocking over his ultra-cheap plastic water bottle that we bought at the Invisible Pet Store, along with Car-girl, who came along to assure that the Pet Shop Boy didn't rip us off. We had a choice between the one that we bought & one that hangs from the bars -- but it'd be too high up for the hamster to reach. However, the one that we did pick out kept being toppled; he'd try to hide behind it & the footing was precarious. Fred came over unexpectedly to look at it yesterday -- when he rang the doorbell, we were afraid that it'd be an incarnation of VADIS: Kimothy Leery; then we opened the door, voila! here we have a 21st Century Schizoid Man who has a talent for guitar & is mechanically inclined. We found that the bottle had busted, so Fred took me over to the pet store; Trish had just come home from Pizza Hut with our Scooby snack & was cold & wet. The Pet Shop Boy sold us a hanging water bottle, & knocked off 50 cents when he saw that I only had $7.00 in my wallet. It took a bit of wire-crimping, but the bottle is securely in place.

I'd been to Fat Albertsons earlier, to pick up some milk & cube steaks, worked on TC until I reached the end; fight scene needs work. Perhaps I should have Muhammad Boxer choreograph it for me.

Fixed chicken-fried steak for supper. Trish helped with the taters. We couldn't find the gravioli. After supper it was house-cleaning time, following which Trish developed an incredible amount of anxiety over whether or not he could reach the water bottle. Fred came back around 7:00 with a block of wood to climb to the bottle on; whine, whine, whine; Kall Karen.

This morning, I slept in until the alarm went off. The first thing Trish asked was, "Is the hamster still in his cage?" She's developed an incredible amount of "paranoia" regarding the hamster escaping.

Today (I believe) is Cheri's turducky at the Layout. X-mas, you know: religion. I'm tired of arguing "intelligent design" with WW, I think he's acting outside his field of expertise, so I'll drop "Hog" from the title, & insult Harlan Ellison anyway.

The only other thing we did yesterday was call Ruth in the morning. We're not doing X-mas this year, beyond cards. I feel the same way about my family, especially Biggie, who's pulled a disappearing act under the influence of the skinny dog. Kimothy Leery's been known to influence me, but I kind of kicked her out. This way, I have marriage? you wanna? & legalize it, I'll advertise it.

no manic Monday -- Abilify, remember?

So the first thing I have to say is, "Fuck Scientology", 'cause it makes me feel like I'm a man to put a trank into my brain & I tell you things ain't quite the same & I guess that I just don't know -- 'cause when the Abilify is in my blood & the blood is in my head then I'm better off than dead & Scientology kills!

The events of Sunday developed pretty much on a normal basis: Trish left for work early, I surfed the darkened seas in order to send Linda & Elisa (2 Hot or Not double-matches) the address for my book, & I worked on TC until Trish came home. Once she arrived she ate her veggies & then showered. I usually practice my keyboard when she's in the shower, but I felt burned out from all the writing/eyestrain (20/300), so I just sat around listening to my homemade speakers.

I want to build a set for the basement, but have been debating using a small woofer & a tweeter, a full range driver, or a full range with a piezo super-tweeter.

While Trish showered I called Ted. I left a message on his machine, turns out he was eating; called back when he finished his meal. Turns out he's working on TC again now, too, but told me Word has a "compare manuscripts" button that allows him to do that. I'm kind of depending on him to write the final scene -- S & J make up, make out -- but beyond that, I think I need to edit what he sent me considerably. Since it looks Critter-able, I'll Critify it, one last chance for glory before my vision forces me to drop out. I kind of want to run Phoenix Enthralled thru Critters as an RFDR, but beyond that, feel that the problems involved in keeping my participation ratio above 75% may make staying in the group less than useful. I think Critters would mis-understand PE & I'd receive a lot of advice that's too purely at the surface level. Ted told me to seek out & explore new writers groups, but hey, I'm already the Shakespeare of science fiction, at least I used to be, & the Invisible Hog can kiss my ass -- in recent days, I've planned on ignoring Bill Warren's advice: after the essays he sent me on "intelligent design", not to mention Newton, I've realized he likes to talk outside his field of expertise considerably. & I feel that I can salvage the project by eliminating the term "Hog". "Harlie Davison" is sufficiently different from the motorcycle trademark to allow it to pass, & I don't care what Harlan Ellison (a true Hog) feels about my writing.

Trish cleaned up in the kitchen & bedroom last night for her chore. We watched Britny again last night. I'm really going to have to insist that LOTR is played. We watched the ending of Deuce Begeloe: European Gigolo on Starz last night, & decided it was so bad that it's funny.

Today I'm fixing pancakes. From Albertson's generic. Karen was wrong, our big bag didn't last until 2007, but then, the apples & baby carrots are missing, too.

Once Trish is at work I'll start writing some more on TC. The most robust elements should survive, same as building up any complex system of memes.

I had planned to photocopy & mail Dion's copy of the original Masters, as well as the outline to the sequels today, but decided I may need to hang onto my buckadingdongs for groceries. We're also running low on coffee, so this morning I threw in some decaf. Trish'll never know the difference. I'll check my email periodically today, but plan on staying away from the chat rooms. It exacerbates VADIS, the same as the Leery girl, & the only thing worse (more slutty) than VADIS is Karen Relationships. Stupid Lampshade can go fuck himself.

atypical antipsychotic, typical Sunday (so far)

My Abilify is being boosted; I can both feel the surge in energy & have been sleeping better at the same time: today I slept until 6:45. I got out of bed, made some 1/2-caff, & turned on the old King Crimson. The original lineup, which first introduced me to the band.

Then the alarm went off, so Trish woke up long enough to take her pill. Am I going to say it? Are you wondering when I'll say it? OK, here it goes: FUCK SCIENTOLOGY! & all you sweet little Scoobies, you can all go take a fucking walk. (Yeah, the Scooby Club practices anti-medication mind-fucks, too.)

Yesterday seems like a pretty typical Saturday, as I recall. The taxi (Invisible City needs a magic bus) picked up the mighty Insect Slayer at about 10 'til 10, then once she phoned home, I took a bath. I stayed home from the soup kitchen, to eat a salami sandwich & the frozen stir-fry vegetables that Trish doesn't like because the pea pods "have strings in them". I finally read Ted's Thanksgiving version of TC. Lots more romance elements, but he didn't tackle the ending. Today after lunch I'll call him to brainstorm. I really don't know how the fem-bot can patch things up after the fight. Hell, I have to improve my description of fights, if I want to be "commercial"

Trish got off work late, as Pizza Hut had 4 parties. Christy had been preparing for it Friday, when we were out with Ed & Denise, then had to take everything down.

Trish really wanted to attend Church bad last night, so after our salad bar veggies, she skipped her shower & I made sketti. The service was not spectacularly different than any other, save that I meditated quite a bit on Bill Warren's misunderstandings of evolution & "intelligent design", an issue Joe didn't really help with, either.

I called Hope after church. The phone card had 666 minutes on it, which I would've taken as a sign in my demon-haunted adolescence, when I took Fundamentalism seriously. Then I read Also Sprach Zarathustra & it changed my life, & led me to write Answer to Zarathustra, a psychotic masterpiece that scared me so much I eventually took it out & burned it, especially after the way NORML started in on it at the Alfalfa High party, just one week before the Vadisystems conned me into drinking that vodka on top of all the acid, & Rachel & Vadis, not to mention the Invisible Lampshade, can all go take a fucking walk.

After Trish finished the dishes, we called her mom, who as usual sounded a little descoobied. Dion had sounded Rebeboed when he'd called on Thanksgiving, & legalize it!

Today, if nothing else, I'll read Ted's notes on the MR characters. I also need to write up a short note to Dion, about how I created my Masters (U-boat), in order to also include the outline. Tomorrow I'll go to the Layout to mail the story, as Mary can photocopy it there for me for free. That blows one day. The next is the Center's X-mas party, for which Cheri is cooking a turducky. It's the same old story: I'm real smart 'cause I had 3 years of nursing school; I cook real good; come on, everybody, let's play Aggravation -- & then she wonders why I don't go in there anymore.

Today, I have to pick up a few groceries at Albertson's, probably once Trish calls home. The soup kitchen is closed today.

French toast & coffee this morning. Let's see what happens when the Abilify really kicks in. In the meanwhile, fuck Scientology!

return of the pepperoni pizza-dent

We had a wonderful time with Ed & Denise yesterday at Pizza Hut. I'd talked with Ed the night before about going out, but of course he had to run it by his wife first. Trish wanted to go to bed early that night, so eventually Friday morning I called Ed: 1/4 to 12; beat the rush.

OK, so it wasn't until 12:30 that we arrived. Denise had a really bad cold & that had delayed their arrival. Christy took us to our table, & Julie, the one for whom Trish is making the blanket, filled our pop + water. Say Bra also stopped by, & even made a lasagna pizza especially for us.

When we eventually made it home, we watched Heavy Metal, followed by Disc I of The Fellowship of the Ring. Sometime in the coming week I'll watch them all.

We went to bed early, as Trish wanted to wake up early in order to fix us cinnamon rolls. Toastie Bear toasted us; eventually I turned him off -- then was cold this morning. Even though I took 3 temezapam & fuck Scientology, I couldn't get to sleep until after midnight.

Trish woke up early -- for her -- & went ahead & fixed us our breakfast, anyway. Now, it's about lunchtime. Once I'm thru with my salami sandwich, I'll start to read Ted's version of TC. Monday I'm taking the Original Masters to the Perky Pam Layout for Mary to copy, then will send it off in the mail to Dion, along with the outline of the remaining 3 parts.

with the air in the hair in the rear of her derriere with the pepperoni pizza dent

Today we're (hopefully) doing lunch at Pizza Hut, with Ed & Denise. Nice people, but a little over-religious. Or maybe that's just the rebound from Bill Warren.

I sent him an email last week lamenting how, at the Soup Kitchen, we have to put up with some Bozo lecturing us on "intelligent design". This is, of course, completely incompatible with true science; nor do Bill's opinions on Newton -- why did he stray so far afield? -- represent a deep understanding of the history of science. Joe says I shouldn't argue with the guy, but Joe also said a lot of theistic philosophies that are logically flawed -- you can't explain everything -- as well as displaying a total ignorance of philosophy of science -- it's all a bunch of theories.

Since I'm tired of arguing with Bill, I'll simply wait a couple weeks, then send him the address to Andy Morlock's Dead.

The story's real atomic, having been written on a nutmeg binge, & wound up on the Velvet Underground webring. Unfortunately, it's incomplete, & although I did want a sex change to turn into a lesbian, I don't know what happens next. I am going to have to acquire a rasta cigar to complete the saga of W.C. Leadbeater, caught in a mental hospital he never made, with Andy slowly dying.

Trish had her foot doctor appointment yesterday at 9:15. Everything is fine, though he did give her a free sample of a skin cream. We had the taxi drop us off at Iron Claw House, where we played War until our appointment. I let Trish come in as she'd cried herself to sleep the night before: my vision's down to 20/300, & she feared that I would go totally blind. A visit to the eye doctor yielded stylish new frames, & a happy Bumble Bee Girl.

I fixed us b-b-q chicken, baked beans, & tater tots last night. Trish did a lot of cleaning, & wako called when we were about ready to break open a can of Pringle's Trish had splurged upon when we went shopping earlier. I had to explain to Keith that TVs are due to go obsolete in 2009, & that either the Blu-ray or HD-DVD are going to replace the current standard. Then he didn't know who Peter Gabriel was, so I let him go for the Pringle's.

We watched the Flintstones movie until bedtime. Toastie Bear kept us nice & warm, & we snuggled like Snuggle-uppagus. Kim made fun of Trish's teddy bears the last time she exasperated VADIS, so she can go take a fucking walk. & while I'm on the subject of fucking, fuck Scientology.

the Abilify to carry on

Yesterday was the big day: the confrontation with Doc Larocque. The previous day all I did was finish the outline to Phoenix Enthralled, & came down from Carson & Springfield -- though I also received a note from Bill Warren to the effect of, he doesn't understand God beyond Sisyphus, & no dilettante, filioque fancy, beats the Plastic U-boat.

So we had to set the new alarm clock which Car-girl & I picked up the day before to 6:30, as we needed to be on the road by 8:00. We had cereal; we were hungry; we ate in an over-priced cinnamon roll factory. Elena had her hair appointment, Bryan had his skin-surgery follow-up, & then we came at long last to Doc Larocque's office.

Trish is fine. Nobody's arguing that. We spent about 5 minutes of cursory time discussing voices with Trish, then on to my request: drop the Depakote & replace it entirely with Abilify. She asked if I'd been on an atypical alone before; yes, Zyprexa, but I couldn't write on it. She agreed to taper me up to the max, 30 mg. of Scientology-fucking pills, then taper me off the Depakote. Then she had to split 'cause her pre-schooler was in trouble.

We did a lot of shopping. Trish & I both bought new boots. We also bought $50 worth of groceries at Wal-Mart, though Karen misplaced the apples & baby carrots, something we discovered about 1/2-way thru the 70s Show. Earlier, we had a medium green pepper & onion pizza with stuffed crust.

Today Trish had her foot doctor appointment -- everything's fine. We left for the Layout where we saw Joe, who just pissed me off about "intelligent design", didn't stop me from being Kimothy Leery; mostly, he saw Trish & I together as Trish cried herself to sleep last night: eyesight is getting worse, couldn't see the TV. Mostly this afternoon at the eye doctor's office he just prescribed a new lens, which will bring my vision back down from 20/300 to 20/100-20/200.

We are having b-b-q chicken & beans for supper. Nummy treats!

the dau before infinity

...would make a good title before the day of my death, but it would have to be a knowing death, something that comes without surprise, not something that creeps up on cat's feet with iron claws (like the true Rootboy). No, the reason for the title is that tomorrow, we travel to the Fargo of the Invisible landscape -- assuming that the roads aren't icy -- to confront Doc Larocque with the question -- do I have the Abilify to carry on? Trish has really been playing doctor with my meds, & yes, I think that we may be able to replace Depakote with more Abilify -- certainly my writing's (most of the time) improved -- but there are numerous factors out there to go into before even considering a med change (& fuck Scientology!), one of them being, if it works, don't fix it; the other, reducing the number of meds I'm on, to reduce side-effects & interactions. I may pick up a new one, though: Viagra. My abilities to be proficient in all sexual activities has been severely limited by age & haldol -- the haldol's out of my system (for the most part); the sexual effects persist. The only thing keeping me from transforming my slime-offs into gushers is that, sometime this month, I'll be wearing a heart monitor for 24 hours. Ooga-chugga religion during this period will not, of course, show up in the telemetry, but if it winds up that I need to take heart medicine, I won't be able to take the aphrodisiac.

Today I won't be picking up an alarm clock at Kame-Apart; I figured out how to work Trish's. I set it for 7:00 last night, with the confusing array of switches making it difficult to know what to do, without an instruction book. But I'm a smart Pookie Bear. + I just saved us $14.00 at Kame-Apart. Now all that I have to purchase is root killer (I am the true Rootboy) & milk. I also need to pick up some more bread at the bread store. The bread at the dollar store is too thick. I just hope Car-girl can tool her car down Dawn's Highway in the direction of the sunset; it may be icy, as last night it rained, & I'm sure there's lots of snow-covered ice on the roads I hope this doesn't abort our plans for tomorrow. However, if we can't travel the 200 klicks we'll put Doc Larocque on a vid-cam.

So yesterday I didn't work terribly hard on my writing -- I'm still working on my outline of PE; I want to finish that before attempting RM for Platinum Studios, my Invisible Groundhog Guy. I feel that the outline is 90% complete, but want to add some photocopies of alchemical wood block prints, to be used as illos, transforming my futuristic city into a medieval montage.

After I finished that, taking some time out for lunch -- a salami sandwich & the leftover chili-mac -- I burned a bunch of disks for wako.

We invited Jeffer Auss over for the evening. Trish took a shower before he came over, while I practiced my keyboard. I'm starting to get the chords of Light My Fire down; now, it's a matter of inserting the melody. Fred & I will have to work together on that.

Jeff brought a DVD, something about a Japanese martial arts girl. The movie ended about 9:00, so I put the CDs on.

Today I plan to finish my outline & see about doing the non-Bill Warren illos. I'm not certain what happened to those Grofian diagrams I put together of the 4 basic perinatal matrices. Most science fiction readers won't get it; won't see that anything beyond "acid" is going on in the story. For example, my brother John's assertion that the work was "choppy" shows that he, too, was unaware of the true meaning of the story. It's sort of like watching Narnia & not knowing that the Lion is going to rise from the dead.

Starting next week, I'll return to work on TC. I'm not removing Ted's name, he did a lot of work on it & needs the publishing credential. If I'm bored I'll call Fred or Dan & see about jamming on the guitar & keyboard.

alarm(ed about the) clock

So the alarm clock's busted. We did bring Trish's old one up from down in the basement, but haven't been able to figure out the controls. It went off yesterday morning & last nite (it'd accidentally been set to 9:23), but this morning, I woke up at 7:01 (3 sleeping pills) & it hadn't buzzed. Trish wants to buy a new one, but I'm not certain how much they cost.

Yesterday I spent a little time on the Internet before having a salami & cheese sandwich for lunch, along with canned raviolis. I spent some more time outlining PE, then ate veggies with Trish when the cab brought her home. We had leftover mac-&-cheese for supper, then I started burning CDs for wako. I'd tried earlier in the day, but my D: drive is busted. I called Joe about it, & he said I could stick it in the E: drive, copy to the C: drive, then copy to a blank disk in the E: drive. I finished 3 disks out of the 7 I plan to send to him.

The outline needs a lot of work. The story's there; an effective presentation isn't. Like Roxy with speed, do I have the Abilify to carry on? Sometimes it seems like weed is the ultimate solution, but alas, Dr. Boze won't prescribe it, & with the DEA still able to bust you, we need a national medical marijuana law. Go, Jon Tester! (He told me he believes in weed -- but how can men who've never known weed be enlightened?)

In 2 days we see Doc Larocque. Maybe something stronger will really hold me down.

& Stan lies down on Broadway...

...which is a somewhat facetious manner of saying I've finished my outline of Phoenix Enthralled (& came down the rivers & highways, from forests & falls, from Carson & Springfield), which means I've done it with time to spare -- though I'll still be tweaking it for the next couple days. This afternoon, I plan to burn disks for wako's X-mas present (VU boxed set), after eating a salami sandwich & some canned junk-em.

I picked up the salami, along with a total of $20 worth of groceries after eating at the soup kitchen, where I really shouldn't be so polite & listen to the bozo, who always starts his sermon when I'm finishing desert, & frequently babbles about such idiocy as "intelligent design".

I finally did a crit, as I'd received a "Critters misses you" note in the email Friday. The story was one of Marilyn Klimscho's. I haven't received a thank you on it yet; I got mad at her awhile back for writing some idiocy about how "depression makes sense", which is like, yeah, I've made suicide attempts; shut up & leave me alone.

Once I'd finished writing for the day I put on the Tina Turner DVD & waited for Trish to come home on the Invisible taxi. After she ate her veggies & cottage cheese (yay! calcium) she took a shower, while I fixed an Albertson's knock-off of a Velveeta mac-&-cheese dinner & some of the canned vegetables we'd picked up at the dollar store in the mall when we went out with Karen.

Trish hurried because she wanted to go to church. I sat there & flew from the alone to the Alone. Then once we were home -- I left the porch light on for a change -- I watched some more TV while Trish did the laundry & the bathroom. We saw Narnia on Starz, & afterwards I went to sleep fairly easily, though I had to tell Trish a couple times not to chatter. I slept until 7:00 this morning, Trish's alarm clock, which we used to replace the busted old one, went off at 7:00 -- though it produced radio static & not a buzz. She'll most likely still want to buy a new one in Great Falls. Our appointment with Doc Larocque is Wednesday. I'm looking forward to Abilifying my life & all you Scientologists with all your insane talk, you can all go take a fucking walk.

early morning, west Montana, Rocky Mountain, stranger by the river

Woke up before 5:00 again, first time in months, & even after taking 3 temazapam following Battlestar Galacrica last night. The last full day before the Mighty Insect Slayer returns to work, included a lot of eventful moments. Trish got out of bed around 8:30-9:00, ate her corn flakes, then waited with me for Karen to Kall, so we could go out to Jack's Tacos for lunch, pay bills, & pick up some spending cash. Karen left our checkbooks in the car, so we ate anyway. I had a taco bravo & everybody else's potatoes (too salty), & Trish had a quesidilla & steak & potato burrito. I think Karen had a chicken taco. Then we split for the buckadingdong store & bought $41.52 in groceries; an uneven number 'cause some of the stuff was on sale for 88 cents.

When we arrived back home & after I gave Karen the $200 for taxes & Trish stashed the groceries, we watched some music videos: Madonna 93-99 & Peter Gabriel, Play. I cooked thighs again last nite while we listened to CDs. We watched the Bryan Ferry/Roxy Music DVD Dan gave me for X-mas many years ago, followed by Battlestar Galactica. I slept soundly, but not enough hours.

Today I have to take a stab at Crittin' a piece of (mostly) amateur science fiction. If I can't do it, I'll have to drop out of Critters. I won't miss people like David Dalglish (whom I suspect was kicked out for violating diplomacy guidelines) or I Ron Steele, who railed against "neuraleptics" but is laughably trying to get published: I looked at his bio; it's hard to take seriously someone who makes 5 typos in one page.

After I'm done with the outline for PE, I'll finish MR & ask Ted to have it Critter'd & forward me the reviews. I think when Airvana goes public, we'll be able to finish G&M, until then it's just another time, even though there's no one here with the works to give me a sweet taste, & Perky Pam is no longer putting a spike into my vein.

Dr. Day (& not the psychiatrist)

We spent most of the afternoon at the Clinic yesterday, after leaving the Perky Pam Layout. Trish had an appointment with Charlene Upstairs at 11:00, while I had an LAC meeting at Bullhook Clinic at 10:30. Trish attended the first 15 minutes of that with me, after the county health nurse squeezed us in for flu shots; otherwise, we would've needed to wait until next week.

My participation in the Local Area Council included mentioning that we should start to teach psychology at a Jung age, & that I could write to the non-Layout Pam for suggestions as to how to cope with childhood schizophrenia, which you can read about in The Mind-Warp Era by W.C. Leadbeater, an incredibly hot book.

I was sitting next to a cop. I almost had the copper jitters. I did volunteer for CITI, in order to educate the cops on mental illness, which is, he said they'd rather play with big guns.

I met Trish at the Layout, where Cheri served us pork. Then we got to the Clinic, & waited, & waited, & waited, & there was no one there with the works to give us a sweet taste. Finally got to see the Dr., but she was on-call, so we had to wait awhile in the examination room. Then, after she decided to do a biopsy, Trish decided she needed to use the bathroom, so we had to wait some more. After that, we needed an EKG & for Trish to be scheduled for a sonogram of her heart -- she had open heart surgery as an infant.

After we finally got out of there, Trish decided she wanted to walk over to the hospital cafeteria, where we had Chinese food, & a mishap with the snack machine yielded 2 bags of Chex Mix while we waited some more for the taxi. The man just blew it off. The woman came quickly after Trish called a 2nd time.

When we came home all I really wanted to do was watch TV. SpongeBob Square-pants kept Trish amused for awhile, then an episode of Friends scared her 'cause it dealt with gambling. We went to bed early, 9:00, as we were both tired. I had some bad dreams that someone was tapping on the door; it might've been the hamster, & in general, slept poorly.

Karen promised to do budget with us today. We're expecting a call around 11:00. Trish will be getting up in around 2 minutes, & I have to do a story for Critters, when my vision is ebbing away. I do not know if I can Critter Pheonix Enthralled. I don't know how helpful they'd be, anyway. They might misconstrue much of the very nature of the project, & besides, all the average Critter knows about alchemy is "lead into gold" & "you can't use 'Philosopher's Stone' 'cause it was in a Harry Potter book.'" I may stay in the group long enough to Critter Ted's latest creation, & I've still got to tell Bill Warren that I don't believe in Creation. It's a cop-out for a scientist, & means he's not doing his job. The only basis there could possibly be for it is mysticism. Tra-la! for the mystery cults! I'm a mystic man, & once the medical marijuana laws are out of the DEA's hands in the latest Congress (Jon Tester said he'd vote Yes on the Hinchey-Rohrabacker Amendment), I'll be on dope. Yeah, I know, I really should wait until then to bring Simon Farber out of retirement, but the Abilify seems to similarly boost my creativity.

Once that's done, it's the sword-&-sorcery (nearest approximating sub-genre) Noc-Lar (I'm a Heavy Metal addict), followed by Arn. God, I wish I hadn't thrown the original version.

Trish is up now, so I've got to book. I'll be doing the crit tomorrow, if I can muddle my way thru one. If not, I may have to drop out.

Until tomorrow it's just another manic morning.