Mar 2017
i'm pretty sure they have home, but i can't be too sure...
they seem to like me...
there was this "ghost" of a cat
in my garden tonight...
a bonsai version of my 10kg maine ****...
it's the second time i've seen him
in my garden...
the first time i wanted to feed this
poor orphan... i started shaking a plastic
bag of cat treats asking him for
trust...
didn't work...
just today i was playing my "imaginary"
drum-kit with my hands...
variations, culminating
in my right hand's index
tapping against my left hand's knuckle...
and my left hand's index tapping
against the right leg's knee...
truly... the (Χ pose... on the windowsill
χ)
drumming away, enjoying the song
jestem psem by lao che "too much"...
this drumming imitation without an actual
instrument: african cultures call drumming
a medicinal approach to
your mental health...
too be honest? it's not exactly a beijing
pharmacy where this advice comes from...
evidently you can catch the curiosity of "stray"
cats coming into your garden...
so i tried to feed the poor thing...
i changed my tactic tonight...
cats are naturally distrusting, and it's hard
to build up a trust to the point where they
can relax all godly and be fed easily...
so what happened...
(i don't know what *** this ginger
bonsai was)... but i'm guessing female because
my ginger hulk became interested too much...
he's castrated, as all cats bought from
pedigree sellers...
i do know that cats are
very protective of the space they occupy...
like people and the time they lived in...
but ***** **** *** happens when cats do it...
dogs and permission...
(i'll get onto the ******* question)...
but i really did want to feed the poor thing...
honestly? what do you have to a cat
for them to go "missing"?
how can cats go "missing"?
i remember seeing this guy tie his dog to a bench
and then run away... sooner than no sooner
the dog was a stray, and he found a friend... another
dog that ran from the opposite gate of the park
where he was left in...
oh right: so this bonsai ginger...
evidently i interested him to come back to my garden
with my drumming using my hands and the rest
of my body acting as the kit...
i thought of another tactic...
i took a little plate, sprinkled it with cat treats
and took it outside into the garden,
then i went away to put on my shoes,
went back to see if the orphan moved... he was still
"agitated" by the scent of my cats sitting
tense in contemplation...
i took the remains of the cat treats
and showed him: it's not poison...
and then i threw of them into my mouth...
CRUNCH... CRUNCH... CRUNCH...
they're not that bad...
all i know is that if i eat a few
cat treats (dry, felix goody bag) -
all i know is that i won't have to have
the same problem as people eating maynard's wine gums,
or rowntree's fruit pastels...
i like my teeth,
and i like the sugar: lactose... i drink milk first thing
in the morning to stop myself imitating tuberculosis
of the larynx lined by marmite phlegm left by
the previous day's tobacco...
it almost feels like ice-cream...
so i left this plate of cat treats on a little plate
in the garden as gently as possible so as to not
frighten the poor thing... and went out to buy
two bottles of 70cl of whiskey and a bottle of ms. pepsi...
they call me a gentleman in the supermarket...
huh? and today's compliment from
the cashier tarah: matt... you lost weight.
really? must be the alcohol diet combating
drinking water. and it does happen...
i look overweight: but i'm just bloated from the "abuse"
of alcohol.
i'm not going to repent... it might attract
the next al capone in the american era of speakeasies;
a story that parallels what happened in poland after
the second world war... some regions of poland had
no idea what coffee was... honest to god, 20th century
and there were regions in poland where coffee wasn't
drank... my maternal great-grandfather actually
poured coffee into the river of my local town...
they didn't know what to do with it!
i'm guessing: if you live in a chai culture
(tea, samovar) you won't know what comes invading,
new... but they were given loads and loads
of coffee (the detail missing? were they bags of
coffee beans or ground-down coffee? don't know) -
but they got rid of it, giving the river a mouth to
eat it... this is mid 20th century...
a bit like: did the americans know what
to do with alcohol in the zeitgeist of prohibition?
i don't think so: butterfly here, tornado over there -
i'm pretty sure they didn't know what to do with alcohol.
*******?
well obviously i'd wish to have it snipped,
don't get me wrong... and if this could be a graphic
novel it could well be with what i write next:
i couldn't.
no... two protruding veins on it that
went from the base and encircled the "excess" of skin...
if they cut it of: i'd be dead bleeding from my ******* "pride",
that would later translate into: well... now i guess
i can do **** with a girl.
it's one thing that i imitate after
being taught by pronography and risk pulling it back
and wondering: will these two veins be ruptured?
well... shoving it into a soft pouch of a **** i'm
guessing: not really... if i did it in reverse via the ****?
probably.
but am i going around saying:
do this! do this! i learned this in school: circumcised males
are *****... bombastic retards too dependent on
female genitals... because if you're circumcised and have
to resort to *******: you missed the whole
biblical narrative on the point... jerking off is only
permitted with *******... well: i don't who got *****
prior to being allowed the decision to alter those regions
of the body... but it's certainly sad to be "predestined"
to have such parts... but don't worry: you can choose
whether to have a crew-cut or a mohawk or a mullet:
informed choice... you won't get it down south...
thankfully i know that revising down south
is not open to me... two serpent-veins encricle the region
that could be "revised"...
definitely improved...
but it's hard to hear the egyptian argument
of the female counterpart...
are these really drives to craft a civilisation
because for a man: it's so necessary to please
women? when you don't have the improvement you turn
to other pleasures... music? prime. alcohol? another prime.
a work ethic? also a prime.
i might not play, a ******* clarinet,
but i can tap out a drum beat...
that's what i love about modern music:
there was once the term americana...
now there's another: the perfect example of
africaana (ā) - drums... which counters all the hot air
and burning horse manes of violins that
classical music represents.
again: a complete lack of drums!
the cat? i earned its trust, came back from the supermarket
and almost all the cat treats were gone...
well... they're not that bad... coarse, sure,
but then cats have frictive tongues, they have sandpaper
tongues (if you were ever licked by a cat on the hand)...
but at least
he trusted me.
i can only call it the tactic of: look, i'll eat what
i'm about to give you, it's a cold march night and
you can find whatever pleasurable nook (and there are
a few) in the garden and sleep there;
come back tomorrow, and i'll leave you moist
cat food (that... i won't eat... dry cat food i can eat,
brush my teeth after... wet cat food? no no).
they seem to like me...
there was this "ghost" of a cat
in my garden tonight...
a bonsai version of my 10kg maine ****...
it's the second time i've seen him
in my garden...
the first time i wanted to feed this
poor orphan... i started shaking a plastic
bag of cat treats asking him for
trust...
didn't work...
just today i was playing my "imaginary"
drum-kit with my hands...
variations, culminating
in my right hand's index
tapping against my left hand's knuckle...
and my left hand's index tapping
against the right leg's knee...
truly... the (Χ pose... on the windowsill
χ)
drumming away, enjoying the song
jestem psem by lao che "too much"...
this drumming imitation without an actual
instrument: african cultures call drumming
a medicinal approach to
your mental health...
too be honest? it's not exactly a beijing
pharmacy where this advice comes from...
evidently you can catch the curiosity of "stray"
cats coming into your garden...
so i tried to feed the poor thing...
i changed my tactic tonight...
cats are naturally distrusting, and it's hard
to build up a trust to the point where they
can relax all godly and be fed easily...
so what happened...
(i don't know what *** this ginger
bonsai was)... but i'm guessing female because
my ginger hulk became interested too much...
he's castrated, as all cats bought from
pedigree sellers...
i do know that cats are
very protective of the space they occupy...
like people and the time they lived in...
but ***** **** *** happens when cats do it...
dogs and permission...
(i'll get onto the ******* question)...
but i really did want to feed the poor thing...
honestly? what do you have to a cat
for them to go "missing"?
how can cats go "missing"?
i remember seeing this guy tie his dog to a bench
and then run away... sooner than no sooner
the dog was a stray, and he found a friend... another
dog that ran from the opposite gate of the park
where he was left in...
oh right: so this bonsai ginger...
evidently i interested him to come back to my garden
with my drumming using my hands and the rest
of my body acting as the kit...
i thought of another tactic...
i took a little plate, sprinkled it with cat treats
and took it outside into the garden,
then i went away to put on my shoes,
went back to see if the orphan moved... he was still
"agitated" by the scent of my cats sitting
tense in contemplation...
i took the remains of the cat treats
and showed him: it's not poison...
and then i threw of them into my mouth...
CRUNCH... CRUNCH... CRUNCH...
they're not that bad...
all i know is that if i eat a few
cat treats (dry, felix goody bag) -
all i know is that i won't have to have
the same problem as people eating maynard's wine gums,
or rowntree's fruit pastels...
i like my teeth,
and i like the sugar: lactose... i drink milk first thing
in the morning to stop myself imitating tuberculosis
of the larynx lined by marmite phlegm left by
the previous day's tobacco...
it almost feels like ice-cream...
so i left this plate of cat treats on a little plate
in the garden as gently as possible so as to not
frighten the poor thing... and went out to buy
two bottles of 70cl of whiskey and a bottle of ms. pepsi...
they call me a gentleman in the supermarket...
huh? and today's compliment from
the cashier tarah: matt... you lost weight.
really? must be the alcohol diet combating
drinking water. and it does happen...
i look overweight: but i'm just bloated from the "abuse"
of alcohol.
i'm not going to repent... it might attract
the next al capone in the american era of speakeasies;
a story that parallels what happened in poland after
the second world war... some regions of poland had
no idea what coffee was... honest to god, 20th century
and there were regions in poland where coffee wasn't
drank... my maternal great-grandfather actually
poured coffee into the river of my local town...
they didn't know what to do with it!
i'm guessing: if you live in a chai culture
(tea, samovar) you won't know what comes invading,
new... but they were given loads and loads
of coffee (the detail missing? were they bags of
coffee beans or ground-down coffee? don't know) -
but they got rid of it, giving the river a mouth to
eat it... this is mid 20th century...
a bit like: did the americans know what
to do with alcohol in the zeitgeist of prohibition?
i don't think so: butterfly here, tornado over there -
i'm pretty sure they didn't know what to do with alcohol.
*******?
well obviously i'd wish to have it snipped,
don't get me wrong... and if this could be a graphic
novel it could well be with what i write next:
i couldn't.
no... two protruding veins on it that
went from the base and encircled the "excess" of skin...
if they cut it of: i'd be dead bleeding from my ******* "pride",
that would later translate into: well... now i guess
i can do **** with a girl.
it's one thing that i imitate after
being taught by pronography and risk pulling it back
and wondering: will these two veins be ruptured?
well... shoving it into a soft pouch of a **** i'm
guessing: not really... if i did it in reverse via the ****?
probably.
but am i going around saying:
do this! do this! i learned this in school: circumcised males
are *****... bombastic retards too dependent on
female genitals... because if you're circumcised and have
to resort to *******: you missed the whole
biblical narrative on the point... jerking off is only
permitted with *******... well: i don't who got *****
prior to being allowed the decision to alter those regions
of the body... but it's certainly sad to be "predestined"
to have such parts... but don't worry: you can choose
whether to have a crew-cut or a mohawk or a mullet:
informed choice... you won't get it down south...
thankfully i know that revising down south
is not open to me... two serpent-veins encricle the region
that could be "revised"...
definitely improved...
but it's hard to hear the egyptian argument
of the female counterpart...
are these really drives to craft a civilisation
because for a man: it's so necessary to please
women? when you don't have the improvement you turn
to other pleasures... music? prime. alcohol? another prime.
a work ethic? also a prime.
i might not play, a ******* clarinet,
but i can tap out a drum beat...
that's what i love about modern music:
there was once the term americana...
now there's another: the perfect example of
africaana (ā) - drums... which counters all the hot air
and burning horse manes of violins that
classical music represents.
again: a complete lack of drums!
the cat? i earned its trust, came back from the supermarket
and almost all the cat treats were gone...
well... they're not that bad... coarse, sure,
but then cats have frictive tongues, they have sandpaper
tongues (if you were ever licked by a cat on the hand)...
but at least
he trusted me.
i can only call it the tactic of: look, i'll eat what
i'm about to give you, it's a cold march night and
you can find whatever pleasurable nook (and there are
a few) in the garden and sleep there;
come back tomorrow, and i'll leave you moist
cat food (that... i won't eat... dry cat food i can eat,
brush my teeth after... wet cat food? no no).
