CatWoman has no uterus, and neither does Osama Bin Laden

So its my day off and the heat in my car is broken. I took it into the shop and the problem is a hose that’s leaking antifreeze. Anti-freeze could perhaps be called, in another dimension “Warming liquid”, but then what would KY call the sticky sub-par lubricant that heats up when ladies rub it against their peachfish? Calling that Anti-Freeze is really a non-option, because unless you’re dry humping an ice sculpture its unlikely your clit will freeze. I asked if they could patch the hose, and the mechanic laughed at me. Perhaps in other dimensions the viscus green fluid that cools your engine so that it can, ironically, transfer heat to your heater and warm your car, can be suppressed in a holey hose by some kind of alien duct tape, but I suppose in this lifetime were stuck with the impermanent nature of, well everything. Although, lets not give impermanence all the credit. I did crash into an SUV.

In the meantime, I’m sitting at Cafe Efebinas in Pilsen behind a sign that reads, “Dream Interpretation. $2.00 Per Dream Special. Satisfaction Guaranteed.” And this is not by chance, if there is such a thing. No, I in fact made this sign last night in a caffeine induced frenzy, compounded with the need to suppress my curiously powerful sexual cravings, and also because Wednesdays are the days that I want to feel most like a character in a book.

Don’t ask me why printing fliers makes me want to have sex less, but it’s been that way since I was very young. “Printing, folding, stapling, taping, folding, packing, cutting”. I actually say this in my head during sex over and over to stop me from cumming early if its been a while since I’ve had sex. The next time I have sex, I fear I will be forced to imagine my grandmother reciting this mantra while sitting on my baby changing table in the house I grew up. * The now mandatory segment of each blog post where I whine about not having sex! Don’t worry, when I start having sex again I will describe it in every steaming detail.

I.O.N: Cat Woman is going through puberty or something. She keeps falling off of everything and jumping straight into walls and running up and down the stairs so quickly she rolls over on herself. She licks her butt hole all the live long day, and then tries to escape the cabinets she gets caught in through the drawers. Maybe its time I replaced the batteries in my carbon monoxide detector. Do any of my readers without a uterus remember licking their buttholes constantly during those turbulent years?

The worst of it is the smell. She must take after her father, because man does this little beezy stink. When she farts it smells like she ate one of my farts, digested it, and farted IT out. It’s like a chemical weapon.

Speaking of weapons, kudos for Obama and his bipartisanship! We all know how hard it is to convince republicans that global warming is real, yet President Obama has apparently convinced infamous religious extremist and  terrorist Osama Bin Laden of the danger of global warming. Osama talks about it in his new video (something something BBC). I never pictured Osama in a Prius. Then again, I never pictured a sand colored prius with OBL TKB screen printed on the side.

Thats Terrorable.

My Heart Burn Baby Burn

The universe cooked something delicious this week, I admit I ate it and licked my lips. mmmmm. Let me tell you, this gumbo was some powerful medicine. But, since I’m a taoist I took a nap right after and woke up with cosmic heart burn.

So – call it excitement, call it ruthless animal attraction, call it my bodys reaction to creatine monohydrate, shit, call it a water pig, any way you slice it I feel like the punch line to an epic joke. To clarify, I don’t mean that the cosmos are laughing at me, but that they are laughing with me. My existence is necessary to the joke, and hence the gods and goddesses need me to get to the funny part already! Is this my way of justifying my own importance? Good question, glad I asked it. No. Nothing is important in the joke. The most simple questions we ask are the most pertinent: Is it serious?

No. It isn’t.

Anyway,

So long and thanks for all the fish!

Blue Dolphin’s Consumer Report

It's come to slaps. Slap Chops.

Watch the infomercial here. Really great product. I hate making salad, you know I hate making salad, but in four or five seconds it’s done.

Target Shoe Bags

This needs no explanation. Single use. Cheap. Four fucking stars. Meanwhile, save for the upgrade! Rubber Shoe Covers. Also four stars. Totally Safe. Great for snow cycling.

Rubber Shoe Cover

Ride the Bacon Wave

Does what it says. Though this one only gets three stars because it takes just as long to cook bacon in the microwave as it does on the skillet, the only difference is that you don’t get to fill your house with bacon smoke. This would be fine, except a special lady really enjoys licking condensed osmosified bacon vapor from her fur. Heather. Just kidding. Its me. Just kidding its CatWoman.

Space. Always in it, no matter what.

”…space is merely a device to prevent everything from being in the same spot.” – Tom Robbins

Two stars. But glad to have it all the same.

Hip Hop Quotes for everyday living

Here are some words, compound words, and phrases that are notable. Explained below is how to use them in every day speech,.

1.Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, in mah mutha fuckin Self I trust

2.Freedom of speech mother fucker

3.weed clouds [in the air]

4.Get down girl, go ahead get down

Quote one should be used if someone is wishing you luck on something you don’t need help with.

“Good luck learning to love!”

“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, in mah mutha fuckin self I trust”

Quote two is used whenever anyone gives you the stank eye after speaking your mind.

“So in my opinion, Seasonal Affective Disorder is just anxiety repackaged for idiots who want to sit under a blinking light and have an excuse for being totally dead inside eight months of the year…

Freedom of speech mother fucker!” Move shoulders

Quote three is close to my heart, because as some of you know, I have retired the word “weed bong” for all of 2010. Peaceful Lion claims that this is the funnies thing I have ever said, (variations include, weed pipe, weed one hitter, weed joint), and because of my profound humility, I decided to retire it until 2011. So, “weed clouds” can be used in much the same way, for example…

“She has huge weed clouds.”

“Do Bhangs make the biggest weed clouds?”

“When you smoke weed indoors, what do you do with the weed cloud?”

And Finally, for irony’s sake, please use quote four when addressing someone seriously, like when CatWoman is climbing on my head while I poop.

“Get down girl…go ahead, get down!”

To Do List

Fuck.

1. Get in Car accident, COMPLEATLY smashing front end.

2. Get sick, be all sniffley.

3. Print out the wrong things for consultation group.

4. Don’t have anyone to love you, and don’t have sex (ever).

6. Sit Indian style in front of fridge, eating dark chocolate out of the crisper in onzie.

8. Read the Red Tent

CHECK

Robert Bly/Nirvana (that crappy band)

“All over the country, the old structures of the impulse-control system have loosened: the superego took its hands away from the throats of young people, or so it seemed, and the whole nation relaxed, felt less depression, endured less repression. The Beatles said something, happily, about living in a yellow submarine.

Yet something went wrong. How did we move from the optimistic, companionable, food-passing youngsters gathered on that field at Woodstock to the self-doubting, dark-hearted, turned-in, death praising, indifferent, wised-up, deconstructionist audience that now attends a grunge music concert? That is the question we need to answer.”

This is amazing. Yeah, what did happen? We all know the women couldn’t cum in the 50’s, and men all wore suits to bed and kicked their dogs, so this sucked, but in the collapse of traditional morality, the change was pretty profound. Women could cum again, people wore bell bottoms, (not sure if those are correlationaly or causally related), people started choosing their own path, having fun, being free.

But the people I see now are super annoying. Any male I see gives me hard looks because I’m more attractive than him, and any girl I see is so afraid of being seduced by me that they purposefully ignore me. Where does all this fear, competition, uneasiness, ruthless attraction to me come from? Sibling Society by Robert Bly addresses the ceaseless competition, with no clear sense of adulthood or initiation rites.

But the larger issue here is, seriously, fuck grunge. I always though Nirvana were a bunch of no shoed, flannel shirted, heroin doing, self killing dick bags. Then there’s all those self hating losers with even smaller balls than Kurt Cobain, who instead of killing themselves with magic shot-guns, just talked about how Kurt Cobain didn’t kill himself with a magic shot-gun, until they got tired of never ever having sex. Step two was cutting their hair to get rid of their green Kool-Aid streaks.

“Kurt Cobain will not be remembered as the John Lennon of his generation. He will be remembered as the Sid Vicious of his generation- a loser.” – John McLaughlin, The McLaughlin Group

Outtie 5000

Sense of Direction (art)

Recently, Fox and I made a collage of maps after stripping all the linoleum off the counters. It was really hard, but worth it. Now I can figure out where I’m gong before I leave the house by looking at my counter. Places of interest include, Pilsen, of course, Villa Park, Elmhurst, Brookfield, major airports and the L system. Blam.

Stiped Down and Ready to go. The counters.

Before the Epoxy

Sink Sunk in Sink Hole. Cell Phone picture. Blah

It was really fun, though doing dishes in the bathroom was the most annoying thing ever.

Toast?

Six oh Five in the Morning: Anticipating the future.

It’s way early. I can’t sleep. I’m so excited to take the pink line to register for classes today at 815am. I only get up this early twice a year. I’m sweating in my onzie from nervous excitement.

Today (yesterday) was full of goodness.
My humidor came in the mail. It’s so large I can crawl inside of it. It has a computer inside that knows what cigars you put in it based on their scent signature. After I installed it in my office and set up the finger print lock system, I rode my dinosaur around the house in an effort to scare CatWoman out of eating the plants(habitat). Later, Carl Jung’s Ghost and I drank espresso in the kitchen. He mentioned that he also hates the old stucco walls, and agreed it would be a bitch to chip them off. After he left I read my anabolic steroids promotional magizine from 1992 and fell asleep on the sofa in my now ‘’stanky pank”colored living room, whereupon I believe I drempt of vaginas, though I can’t be certain because I don’t remember what one looks like. Could have been blury wet orchids too, I suppose. Anyway, I’m delerious, clearly.

Keep warm future peoples of 2010. Wish me luck with my online stats class at community college. Success is my middle name.

Sincerely

Kyle Blue Success Dolphin King

Happy New Year

Cat Woman, Back in Action

Happy New Year everybody! I hope you were all hung over from the joy of being truly alive, I know I was. Me and mah peeps didn’t need to drink my bottle of cooking vodka to celebrate new years. A pizza, a guitar, and some expensive cigars, thats how we roll. By the way, Cat Woman, the extraordinary kitty of 2010 is back in the sacred kiva which is Blue Dolphins home. I finally let her into the bowels of my attic room, turns out she doesn’t give a shit. Its a lesson about vulnerability, really. While we work so hard to keep the inner kitty out of the ceiling of insecurity, in truth, to be totally open means realizing that the kitty would love you no matter what, because you feed her, and that she probably wont get caught in the roof, haunting you with her trapped whimpering whilst the roofer summons the crane to rip your roof off.

2010 is going to be some big news, and this is partly because the guitar I mentioned, just now, is mah guitar. Its a Yamaha, its acoustic/electric gently used (because if theres one things that hasn’t changed since the year 2000, its that I’m not a poser) Without further adieu, here she is, mah sexxxy lady: (by the way, I took this picture while I was naked and you can kind of see my cock in the reflection of the guitar, sorry. )

mmmm good

Totally kidding! Why are you looking for my dick anyway?! Perv-o

I’ve had her for four days, we have learned all the basic chords. Today I’m tightening up my transitions. Please please send me songs/tabs/sheet music (yes I can read sheet music) that are fun and easy, I need material to relentlessly pursue my love of guitar with. For serious, this shit is in mah bones. MAH BONES I tell you. I’m releasing an album, January 1st 2011, called “Somehow it All Worked Out: Tumultuous 2010.”

But its not just guitar thats making headlines, its SCHOOL. Hollah, going back to school in Chicago in a few weeks, first at Harold Washington, then at UIC or Loyola to finish my degree. I majored in Slow Learning, thats why its taken me like eight years to finish a four year degree, which is lucky for all of you who want to be social workers/are already, because with the skills I’ve got, you all need a head start!

Just kidding, there I go inflating and deflating. Or am I? Speaking of inflating and deflating, I recently stumbled upon this letter to Obama written by a 6 year old. I agree with the message, though not necessarily the syntax or diction. I tend to be a little wordier as you can tell.

Letter To Obama

“Barack Obama,

Please start the future.

If you don’t everything will stay exactly the same.”

Happy new year all. I Hope Obama starts the future this year. I hope we all find peace and love and magic, I hope you all buy my electronic acoustic album in 2011, and keep reading mah blag. Go on some adventures, live like you’re crazy and you’ve got  nothing to loose. I’ll be there with some of you, for the rest of you; get some help, you’re boring and I don’t like you!

out

Movies, and sensitive emotions

I had the driest contacts last night when I saw Avatar in digital 3d at the IMAX with Fox. Luckily, I started to cry at five different points in the movie, so it wasn’t a problem. This movie has been put at the top of the movie section of the “If you don’t like it, you’re dead inside” list, which I will actually be publishing in its entirety next week. Look forward to it.

Before we went to the movie though, we sat in my car and smoked cigars watching the snow fall at the park. We talked about Love, and in my rambling I think I actually came to something. When I was celibate for a year (the first time*), I read Osho’s Love Freedom Aloneness. One thing this oracle of wisdom taught me was that I needed to find peace and abundance in the idea that I would be alone forever. Holy shit, right? Ouch, what about love, what about sex, what about picnics and kisses and forevers and back rubs and pistachios? Holy shit, right? Yeah. Well, I found that place where I would be complete if I was alone forever, because I realized that being alone is only scary if you have something to loose, like your petty, small ego because you just aren’t alone. Ok, so maybe you are alone, but I’m not.  I am connected to the trees, to father sky and earth mother, and the grass and the wood in my pergola that vibrates with the heartbeat of the earth. I am the same as the beauty I see outside, and I am the silence that fills my bedroom instead of the sounds sex (ha) I am connected to my mentor and my community and friends. I am connected to the 120 year old house that is my home, and to the trees from which it was built, since bricks hadn’t been invented yet.

So while I’m sitting up at night pondering existence, listening to Autoclave by the Mountain Goats over and over again, tediously, on vinyl, I’m going to work more on this one:

It is only once you realize that you are totally complete as you are, without Eros relationship, and could live your life and journey with happiness and meaning – that you can be in an Eros relationship with the person that you need to complete you, without whom you would be incomplete and lacking.

And if you can hang out in that space, my friend, you will be on the “If you don’t like it, you’re dead inside”, list in the People section.

Out.