Why this? You see, I don't really want my "my name" associated with some of the things "I write." And living with the fear of prospective employers Googling my name and coming up with some of the crap that shoots from my fingertips is what causes me to write without the kind of candor that I know you deserve, baby. I enjoy writing and it is unfair to have my fear of The Machine keeping you from reading the choicest Grade A+++ Timefiller I can provide.
I've removed all of the archives from the old site. Some of my favorites of the bunch are already here (look for the words "Olde tyme" and click hard). But you can also count on newer, more current insane rantings, ravings and wind pissings.
It is my sincere hope that this will become a new world of words regarding my feelings, good ones or sore ones, about the effect robots and puppies have on my life.
Your biggest fan,
K. Tetris
In filtering through some of my entries to post here and entertain you, I noticed that their collective trajectory sort of shifted from small, observational jokey anecdote things with maybe some musical reference to longer thing, often complaint-driven in nature. I'll try to please all of you folks, by giving you all of those. Sometimeas all at once in a literary hot dog! Let's get this Mother started off with a bang, shall we? (aside: I think I'm going to refer to this as The Mother, or just Mom, until a better general name comes to mind)
[- ACTUAL WRITING SORT OF BEGINS HERE -]
First, this morning I sat down to eat breakfast and read my book, which has heavy, thick, swirling prose that I can't bite off more than 20 or 30 pages at a time, because it takes a while to digest it all (way to carry that tired eating metaphor to the end - and you were in a restaurant no less! How wonderful!). The guys behind me were British/Australian/Kiwi (dirty Americans can't tell the difference). Funny enough. They left and there was a guy with a heavy Creole accent. That booth must be where they stick foreigners. The Ellis Island of restaurant sofettes
Second, I decided that a good song for a movie - maybe the part when a male high school senior finally realizes that he's in love with the bookish/artsy girl he's been friends with since second grade or a closing scene when people are obviously engrossed in conversation in a cafe and you want to fade out and go to the credits, letting the audience infer that things are going to work out nicely - might be "Four Corners" by The Sea and Cake.
Third, that last paragraph had one period in it and you probably didn't have read it (stop that! Leave self-referentialism to The Simpsons).
Fourth, I've spent the entire day in pajamas. Including: eating breakfast in a restaurant, having a coffee drink in a coffee drink place, going into Staples to use their little boys room and wandering around for a while (the most exciting items they sell: variety bag of fun-size candy, sexy pens, comfy spinning chairs, LCD monitors), 7-11 for a late morning Slurpee and ambling through a bookstore. Wandering around places in pajamas makes me feel like a tourist. Dig?
Fifth, I'm sick and tired of people taking celebrities for granted. We should have a way to honor them and all the hard work they do behind the scenes to make our lives a little brighter, a little bit more worth living. It's time we have an award or something to give them.
