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11:13 am | 21 July 2004 | heat/bathtime

This is from yesterday, but (for reasons you'll read below) i couldn't post it then.

is more hot. most hot. city of culver, so hot is. not home. lovely homey home by water, is nice, is only eight and five in degreesage. but no, city in culver, nine-de-four you is. computer not workking, is all the time pinwheeling, says to claude "waiting i am for processing of networking. oop: [sad face] is no network. where gone for surfing is the interweb? communicating not good." is blippy. computer gutsy-parts is all melted, sure. inside of claude-head look like egg of "this your brain on drugs is," warning signs!! need cool drinks of mojito, for life saving actions! thought of mint in fried-egg head makes crying in the eyes of claude. cruel californy. so hot. yesterday at six at nighting, is not so bad then. in long beached city, wind cools off ocean, moves fasting through streets sans trafficky. bike, so shiny red, so new, and riding fast to brown house, hot and smells like burning: looking for videos of the a-ha for internetted moment, but soon, over it we become: heat so definite! out we must go from this house! we walk forevers to centers of convention, downtowning, pikeing, tourist trapping, there are no cinematics, sushi is closed. times for t-shirt making at store most tacky, matchy-same tshirts we buy with horses of magnificence, red of eye and nostril, and emblazoning so boldly over shirting, simple texting: LONG BEACH. no horses are run in long beach, still shirts are showing of its dear majesty, oh my city. jameson the age of twelve years, reserved, is so sweet, with tastings of apricot. all this talking talking, and bikeriding so swift, then natasia-calling from coolness of car, and parking spot most excellent.

the night was sweet, winds most cool and i say too much. but today? hot hotness is. computer not working, is all the time pinwheeling. where is programming? why adobe products all the time unexpected crashing? blogger not for blogging, only for target practicing, rifling blogger. computer: "fan forever running! simple texted editage, and pinwheeling. why melting? sound like witch of west, most wicked: "melting, i am!" oh what a world. sitting and sweating. melting, i am. sneaky, you are, sweat, getting into those most surprised places, run like races down back. disgusting, we know. but is hot, such hotness, and only one-thirty is. worse days, these. is more hot.

TODAY: heh. what is great is that i spend a positively inordinate amount of time in the bathtub, and on the phone at the same time if i can manage it, a fact unbelieved by the person with whom i was conversing en bain a couple weeks ago, and so i took a psychotic-elf-looking* pic with MY STUPID GODDAMNED CAMERA PHONE THAT I APPARENTLY CAN'T STOP FUCKING TALKING ABOUT** and sent it, as proof, and so anyway, if you want to feel like you really experienced fadein's dream, here you go.


I also got to tell him that I had this insane lengthy dream last weekend with all kinds of junk like stealing metal cart-racks in alleys and running to loading docks, etc., but that a big part of the dream was me being asleep, fully clothed, in a big washtub-bathy thing, for an hour, and then paul came and picked me up out of it. So: are two near-simultaneous, separate dreams about clothes-in-bathtubs considered coincidence, or PSYCHIC ACTIVITY? You tell me. More crap later. I have to feign work for a while. clm.

*Like, not the kind of elf who's gonna leave you cookies or shoes or anything; more like the kind that's gonna rat your hair up while you sleep and then SET YOUR CAR ON FIRE, not that i would know anything about sabotage (pronounce with short a).
**You know, i promise you that i am not a freaky narcissist or anything along those lines, and the cavalcade of "look at ME!" will end soon enough, but this seemed a little too...prescient to pass up, 'specially since i can upload shit from my phone with a quickness.

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