People In Hell Want Icewater
a web.journal
newest shit
ancient shit
tell me shit
look at my farking
my podcast
my profile
about the title

get your own
read others
recommend me


Want to know when I post new stuff? Add your email here:

This is no social crisis


September 17, 2004 - 5:00 p.m.

But it's also not me havin' fun, either. My plans for the weekend are likely to be interrupted both by the leftovers of Hurricane Ivan and by Melody's current illness. So, brain-out-fucking may not come to pass at this time.

The doctor told me to cut down on salt. Blah. I'll just have to eat more peppers, then. I am also several pounds heavier than this time last year, though I'm not any larger. I guess I must have more muscle mass or something. Dense stuff.

The other day was Rosh Hashana, but mainly the way I noticed it was that the Jewish girls in Melody's neighborhood were dressed to kill on their way to temple at midday. I have no idea where they get their shoes, but there must be some hidden source for just-slightly-tarty shoes that Jewish girls find comfortable to walk in, because some of the younger ones had really sexy heels on. When Melody goes looking for such things, she can never find them. It's a mystery known only to the Chosen People, I guess.

Along that same line, I have now gotten good at gauging the age of Jewish women based on the inverse of their dowdiness. Thus, the sharpest, sexiest-looking ones are all around 19 or 20, and they start getting dowdier and dowdier the older they get from there. But all that walking to and from temple seems to give them great calves, so that's a plus.

Too bad all the Jewish guys their age look like such pale, pasty dorks who can't dress.

I was going to fill up the iPods with more music ripped from my enormous collection of CDs and LPs, but I think that will have to wait until next week.

Thousands, maybe tens of thousands of tracks await rediscovery. I have records I forgot I ever bought. For right now, though, cleaning the house will have to take precedence.

I ordered half a dozen sequoia seedlings. In fifty years, the back yard will be the home of a massive forest unlike anything else around here.


previous - next