the irony continues
ah yes, we might call this part two if we could discover whatever happened to part one, if there was a part one, but then, there was many parts and one of them must have been one once, at least...
if you missed the previous entry (I mean, it's possible you didn't and simply were left speechless by it's awesome power and the magnitude of it's amazing charm), it had nothing to do with John From Cincinnati, but it might have been touched by classic literature or something...
meanwhile, Rasputin farts on the couch...
ok, a show of hands, how many of you fart in your living room?... and how about when two or more people are sitting just a few feet away?... how about at the dinner table?... or when others are eating?... am I the only one who thinks breathing rectum air is not the same as smoking peyote from a peace pipe?...
speaking of John From Cincinnati (were we?), I am either bored or the show has some sort of hook, cuz I find myself wanting to watch it each week and immediately after watching it, I simultaneously wonder why I wanted to watch it and want to know what happens next... and you think the show is strange?... TV is strange, when you're a stranger, everone's watching, nothing is on... the Doors never had it so good...
did I mention that I had nothing planned for this weekend?...
yeah, well, I could watch Earth Girls Are Easy and remember why Geena Davis should always wear a bikini, but I have to be in a rather silly mood to watch such a campy valley girl movie... The Dead Zone will work for me, since I find Nicole Deboer delectable and the show is weird enough to hold my attention most episodes... I suppose I used up all my depth and meaning elsewhere today and we're left with profound ponderings about the idiot box...
you don't have to agree or watch the show, in fact, my writing this is meaningless, especially when I write in a tone that pretends there are many readers out there waiting with baited breath for my next thought... besides, this entry really has nothing to do with John From Cincinnati even if I mention John From Cincinnati a dozen times before it's through...
speaking of Nicole Deboer (were we?), I'd really like to have met one of my libido fantasies before they became famous.. you didn't really expect this to get any less superficial (what it less than superficial anyway?) with the TV on?... yes, I would like to have sex again sometime before I die, I must be a horrible person or something... please don't take that seriously, I'd hate to have to slap you...
meanwhile, I spent the entire day, almost, on the phone... yes, me, on the phone, almost all day... hours, even... yay... conversations are fun... yay... I recall cutething often saying I'm all about the conversation... I remember being all about the conversation... wonderful thing, this ability to communicate verbally...
must have been where I left all my depth and meaning and brains, huh?...
I wonder if the irony in question (what question?) might not be the fact that I write an entry here daily (almost) and still feel lonely more and more lately... and yet, even as I feel lonelier, I feel happier and free-er... and yet again, even as I feel free-er, I feel more ready to share more with someone... I need a playmate... not a playboy playmate, I mean a playmate... could be a sign that I am waking up inside (my evanescence is showing?)... perhaps I'll even find candora waking, since even my sleepwriting has been silent (though myspace may be the release for the overflow from the sleeping gardens lately)...
anyway, this was the Sunday that was... I hope you had a wonderful Sunday and a great weekend, even if you weren't visited by John From Cincinnati... and may your week be spectacular...
if you missed the previous entry (I mean, it's possible you didn't and simply were left speechless by it's awesome power and the magnitude of it's amazing charm), it had nothing to do with John From Cincinnati, but it might have been touched by classic literature or something...
meanwhile, Rasputin farts on the couch...
ok, a show of hands, how many of you fart in your living room?... and how about when two or more people are sitting just a few feet away?... how about at the dinner table?... or when others are eating?... am I the only one who thinks breathing rectum air is not the same as smoking peyote from a peace pipe?...
speaking of John From Cincinnati (were we?), I am either bored or the show has some sort of hook, cuz I find myself wanting to watch it each week and immediately after watching it, I simultaneously wonder why I wanted to watch it and want to know what happens next... and you think the show is strange?... TV is strange, when you're a stranger, everone's watching, nothing is on... the Doors never had it so good...
did I mention that I had nothing planned for this weekend?...
yeah, well, I could watch Earth Girls Are Easy and remember why Geena Davis should always wear a bikini, but I have to be in a rather silly mood to watch such a campy valley girl movie... The Dead Zone will work for me, since I find Nicole Deboer delectable and the show is weird enough to hold my attention most episodes... I suppose I used up all my depth and meaning elsewhere today and we're left with profound ponderings about the idiot box...
if they turn John From Cincinnati into yet another Jesus metaphor, I'll swear off television, or at least HBO, for life... or at least until I forget I swore off it... something more creative must be in the heads of the writers, please...John From Cincinnati...
JFC...
Jesus Fucking Christ...
oh god, I certainly hope not :)
you don't have to agree or watch the show, in fact, my writing this is meaningless, especially when I write in a tone that pretends there are many readers out there waiting with baited breath for my next thought... besides, this entry really has nothing to do with John From Cincinnati even if I mention John From Cincinnati a dozen times before it's through...
speaking of Nicole Deboer (were we?), I'd really like to have met one of my libido fantasies before they became famous.. you didn't really expect this to get any less superficial (what it less than superficial anyway?) with the TV on?... yes, I would like to have sex again sometime before I die, I must be a horrible person or something... please don't take that seriously, I'd hate to have to slap you...
meanwhile, I spent the entire day, almost, on the phone... yes, me, on the phone, almost all day... hours, even... yay... conversations are fun... yay... I recall cutething often saying I'm all about the conversation... I remember being all about the conversation... wonderful thing, this ability to communicate verbally...
must have been where I left all my depth and meaning and brains, huh?...
I wonder if the irony in question (what question?) might not be the fact that I write an entry here daily (almost) and still feel lonely more and more lately... and yet, even as I feel lonelier, I feel happier and free-er... and yet again, even as I feel free-er, I feel more ready to share more with someone... I need a playmate... not a playboy playmate, I mean a playmate... could be a sign that I am waking up inside (my evanescence is showing?)... perhaps I'll even find candora waking, since even my sleepwriting has been silent (though myspace may be the release for the overflow from the sleeping gardens lately)...
anyway, this was the Sunday that was... I hope you had a wonderful Sunday and a great weekend, even if you weren't visited by John From Cincinnati... and may your week be spectacular...
Labels: babble, candora, changes, elsewhere, farts, giggles, home, hope, irreverence, life, local, loneliness, love, myspace, TV, yay
posted by candoor at 11:57 PM
10 Comments:
So I've been wanting to leave you a comment for a while, but each time I tried I felt like Alice falling.. into the many many blogs and diaries and webpages, :) I'd be searching for the "leave a comment" button, but would get distracted and then get unsure if you even read the page where I wanted to post. So.. now I think I found the most recent page you update, but now I think I have forgotten what I wanted to comment about. Hmm..
lol... wonderful, I should know that my manic babbling all over the place would make it challenging to find me, but yes, you found the daily blog updates (where I am most likely to check in daily)...
I think I wrote an entry once, somewhere, called "in search of the lost comment" that related to having so many pages and so many email addresses and how many of them are expired or overwhelmed by SPAM so I often lose email unless the incoming address is known to me (there's another "in search of..." entry I suppose)...
I appreciate your words, even if they were not the comment you intended to leave in the first place :)
hope your day sparkles :)
Hmmm... I seem to have a vague recollection of that whole "sex" thing.
I'm sorry I missed you yesterday. I kept falling asleep mid-day for 2-3 hours at a time. Recovering still, I suppose.
I admire your ability to contend with Rasputin's flatulence (did I just use that word?).
Looks like someone new is enjoying the reflections of Candoor! ;)
Hope your day is spectacular!
vitaLka said you sound like "a normal guy" on the phone.
Jesus - F###ing - Christ...
Is that like effing Oneself?
lol, the Irony Continues.
Dear Candor,
Those of us who like JFC are all fucked now.
HBO cancelled the show.
http://www.cnn.com/2007/SHOWBIZ/TV/08/14/television.john.reut/index.html
Great post and I don't think you babble manically at all.
SP
Candoor,
Mhy apologies for spelling your name wrong.
sp
holding farts inside damages you, screw your roommates and fart at large, rasputin rules!
YAY... thanks for being here :)
H - it doesn't happen often in recent times, but it's bound to happen again... Raspy's gas is a minor annoyance compared to his chain smoking brother living in our living room...
hope you are feeling better now :)
z - I am an amazing actor, aye? :)
Q - lol, the layers are fun :)
sp - you actually spelkled my name right, I had to spell it wrong online cuz I think candor was taken here when I got here, but thanks for the consideration :)
dangit, I should know better than to trust HBO... creeps... I wonder if the TV gurus realize that every time they kill a show after just one season, or half a season, they turn off viewers (consciously and subconsciously) cuz now I'll think twice (again) about taking any new show seriously...
kinda like getting burned at love or by the stove (different burns, but similar learning experiences), there's hesitation in trusting the good things that can come from the experience next time :}
z - it's the farts that come out a few feet away from the dinner plate while we're eating that seems inconsiderate to me, I mean, it changes the flavor of most any meal and after I slave over the stone all day and all...
meanwhile, I'm gonna turn up the air-freshener and burn another candle :)
...
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