has anyone besides me taken to heart the old chinese curse - "may you live in interesting times"?
i'm having a hard time putting on my happy face these days. beyond all of the international mayhem, the main reason is that my plastic surgeon (who we'll call "sandy") gave me too many botox shots. then the rotten bastard started taking Ibogaine, which complicates things considerably. it's a substance discovered in plants from the West African rain forests, and this substance has been reported to reduce both narcotic and cocaine withdrawal symptoms in humans.
not that i have any problem with sandy getting clean, but, fuck, man. how about my personal beauty?!!?! i’m not getting any younger.... after sandy spent 14 hours writhing around on the floor, begging for “gristle”, i had to wonder how he was doing, in real terms, on his rehab....
so the question is - does sandy need and/or deserve a smooth come-down off of the bolivian marching powder, or should he reap the whirlwind?
part of the answer might be found in the following – sandy the skin-carver doesn't even know who george w. bush is. i asked him who the president prior to bush was, and he answered "reagan".
sandy's wife and i are all about solidarity. once she realized that her clown-hubby was on the downhill slope, she and i took precautionary measures. she made sure that she was the only one mentioned in the will, and i made sure that i was the only one with the legal right to send her to a state mental hospital whenever i see fit. i think things will work out well.
when i look back at the night that she and i signed the contract, that moment implies an approach to life which is not only characterized by, but embodies, a complete lack of organization and discipline, an all-pervading selfishness, the epitome of irresponsibility, and an absolute lack of self-control.
many would try to marginalize and/or drop judgment on a person for this realization. however, recent history shows that any who do will end up twitchy and mad, with eyes like squashed grapes, flailing their arms about like baptist preachers trying to simulate flight, and hoping to find some “recognition” among their flock....
but fuck all that shit anyway. my friends and i are young and we will win. when it comes down to it these days, we all know that we live in the time of midgets. small, scuttling creatures who have no influence beyond their small frames, and the occasional movie contract....
everybody is looking for someone who can stand up in the wind. it's lonely standing up, and crowded lying down. selah.
ethan
p.s. when you're ready for lesson #2, go to:
http://www.zefrank.com/dance2/navigation.html you're welcome.
