I stand on the scale
I look at the number

I'm fat
I way over 140lbs

What am I doing wrong?
I barely eat anything

She steps off the scale
Walks over to the counter
And opens the cupboard

Peanut butter

She untwists the twisty ties
Grabs two pieces of white bread
Places them in the toaster slots
Pulls down the lever
For ten seconds
Pulls it up
Pulls it down
Waits ten more seconds
Pulls it up
Takes it out
Spreads the peanutty butter across the crisp edges

Starts eating it
Nom nom nom

Her dog moves close to the counter
And begs

She walks away
Drops a few crumbs
And the dog eats it up

And follows her into the living room
And looks up

Nom nom nom nom

She just looks at the dog
Puts her bare foot against his nose
Which is cold

And the dog doesn't even move
Sticks his tongue outside his mouth
And breathes quickly

Stupid

She puts her foot back down
And moves it against the rug a few times

Then walks into the kitchen
And opens a bag
Of salt and vinegar chips

Starts eating them
Nom nom nom nom

Dog catches the crumbs and slides against the kitchen floor
She walks back upstairs
And the dog follows her
To her room

She shuts the door
And the dog starts scratching through the bottom
And barks

She just lays in her bed
Eating
The dog barks again

She opens the door
And pushes him
With her right foot
Down the stairs

He tumbles down the stairs and hits the kitchen floor
He races back up
Gets pushed back down
Dog runs away

She walks towards the bathroom
And uses the other scale

And she sees that it says 141 lbs

I've only been eating for a few minutes

Errrr

She closes the bag of chips
And stomps downstairs
And places the bag on the counter

Dog waits in the living room
Right next to the kitchen

His food bowl is empty
No water

if you stop following the rules
they say you have disorder
even if it's just a little bit
and they can't pinpoint who you are to them
borderline personality disorder
everything's either evil, or good
people are placed in categories
to the extreme
then it calms down
it's called
hyper mood swing
bi polar
tri polar
quadruple by pass aint savin me
**** the rules
manic impressive
your diagnosis is depressive
can't handle a little love
a little chat
a little quiet
some existence
you can't see
or feel
hyperbole turned real
is a psychopath's mind
errrr
i'm like a dog on a leash
waitin to bite
the first ******* i see
if he acts up

Northern Michigan has got some pretty twisted people  but call themselves decent, God faring Christians. Copy pasting two typical posts on rants & raves forum exchanged between two typical Northern Michiganders. Not like them but think they are weirdos and get a good old belly laugh at the ignorance in the good old deep south errrr, I mean northern michigan. We got spared today from reading that Obama was chief ***** head but did get to read his racist post faking being  American Indian.

From northern michigan craigslist poster #1

RE; Curious in Fairview (TC)
You sure were quick to figure out what "passes for" debate on this place.
Good Job!

Here's what I do....first, I don't give a hoot what any of them say or do to my posts.
The name calling, and personal bashing are simply humorous to me. Truthfully though, I sometimes egg them on....It simply helps prove that the common IQ level
is somewhat ( ???? ) LOW!
Secondly---"Chief Itchybutt" is the ONLY one worth reading---he tells some
pretty incredible stories....he should probably write a book in my opinion.
As for all the rest of the spew---let it roll off your back like water on a wet
duck...just read it and be glad your not one of "them"...
Advice from:
YBBB--the one, the only!



Craigslist poster #2 with pic of Obama with huge photoshopped lips.

Special for Bob, a deer hunting story (in my woods)

Ugg! How! Chief IIttccheebutt of the Neverwiippee Tribe here to tell all what I see in woods hunting for deer, Ugg! Me go out with boomstick early in morning when turkeys are on roost to sit by deer trail to **** a buck.Very windy out, see no deer, me not even see a tree rat with fuzzy tail. Me wait and wait and wait, still no deer. It get dark now so me go in and try next day. Next day come, same thing,no deer, me think I pick a different spot tomorrow. Tommorrow come and I sit by the edge of a big field with sand holes and short grass with flags in little holes, it very quiet and me hear leaves crunching, me crouch down and get gun ready. Noise get closer and closer then it stop so I look out from behind tree and put gun down and pick up I-phone and snap pic of most stupid looking buck me ever see... then me start big belly laugh, ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.
Ugg! How!

I ask for freedom,
Freedom to release this weight.

The weight of this world is lifted
Lifted like a feather.

Feather moved by the wind,
My wind that shall carry me.

Me to you the eternal slumber,
Slumber as brown shape shift zip...zip

Zipper do da day.....
Day of the day day yay day yay daze

Dance sundance film
Errrr.... Away... Yay day yay day away daze.

Ablaze in a maze phase away in a daze,
In this ways,
it pays to gaze.

Praise with the ways,
Are you still reading this?

Stop.... Now!

I mean now...

You don't need to read any further.

Because you are finished right now!

sodium hypochlorite + <5% anionic surfactant (not stated, ammonium lauryl sulfate?)

even i thought that my chemistry days were long gone...
as ever... a chance experiment...
hell... i almost passed out since the scent of
the chemical reaction was so strong...
why on earth did i pour some sodium hypochlorite
into the shower cubicle...
subsequently... some descaling agent...
an acid... whatever it might have been...
acetic, diluted hydrochloric...
then again: it might have been <5% anionic surfactant
believe you me... i've heard of sniffing
glue... but this stuff... knocked me right
back... a citric saltiness so overpowering
i could have gagged... i pretty much did...
here's one for exploring new territories...
all in all: a salt-
               mixed with an acid...
i'm pretty sure there's a specific alkaline +
acid reaction: then again... i don't remember:
my Faustian days have passed in dealing
with chemicals...
nonetheless: a strange sort of high...
by chance: like L.S.D. or champagne...
i'm guessing... what got me off my rockers
was... chlorine gas...
i'll need to refresh my studies
concerning what happens when you mix
an alkaline substance with an acid:
well... bleach isn't exactly alkaline: chlorine-based...
errrr... let's see...
sodium hypochlorite +   what "genre" of surfactant?
NaOCl                                hell: the chemical company
     or NaOH...                     stated <5% anionic...
   both...                
                                          
https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/BF02635807

******* amateur... who? moi!
oh hell... spilled wine on my beard...
a dizzying high: i suppose if the shower cubicle was
much smaller...
i'd be puking... who the hell thinks it necessary
to mix up bleach with a descaling agent?
probably just me...

thank god i don't think myself a genius...
i have had friends who thought just as much...
no brains behind: this is no Zyklone
no mustard gas:
come to think of it...
there were still pagans in Europe
circa 1412... in Lithuania:
while Muslims of the Ottoman Empire
remains were slaughtered by fanatical
Christian Serbs as late at the mid 1990s...

joys concerning the noble savage:
come to think... i'm backtracking...
i've become the most ignoble citizen...
it's not odd that attending a Catholic high school
they didn't teach us to code...
but i did read a load of Gnostic texts...
feel guilty first:
well... i walked around with
a t-shirt with the phrase:
******* IS NOT A CRIME
on the odd day when she coughed up
a quid to not wear uniform...

and all those incentives to fulfil the self-
(prefix attachment, careless)
with an affix akin to: -realisation...
"-ambition"...
can we truly generate: and keep it up...
for this... solipsistic placebo pill?
how staggering that i want to belong:
living in England while not being English...
while the English football team managed
the impossible of beating the Germans
for a span of years: dry for over 50?
my father asked...
why are they so competitive...
why not be competitive with the Spaniards...
or the French?
i guess it boils down to...
that... ahem... "miracle"...
during world war I... when British soldiers
played a game of football
with the Kaiser Crew on Christmas Day
in Belgian mud...

a day later they went back to the trenches
and aimed: the dead-shot
for the old Empires...
at least the 2nd World War makes sense to me:
the mythological evil of the Nazis...
such evil so well attired...

but i don't think that original football match
between British soldiers and the Kaiser Crew
on Christmas day had a specific name...
it probably did... ****... i was hoping noun-spectacular:
the christmas truce match...

that's why this relentless competition
between the English team and the Germans is so felt...
after all: the English rather remember the first world war
than the 2nd... ******* it on their island...
while ****** pilots took part in dogfights...
the old imperial powers came to the end of
their longevity... so... they turned on themselves
to flex their muscles...
it might have the status of a world war:
but it was most certainly the ugliest war...

good to know: that cleaning my own bathroom
doesn't require me to pay third party involvement...
it's not below me: thank god...
it's probably beside me...
if rewriting all those medieval fantasies
of being the sword bearer...
i'll be the inn-keeper...
i'll take most gratification in cooking some...
prawns with chorizo with linguini
in a spicy... tomato sauce...
that's me... i kind of like this advent of peace...
the world can happen and be what it is...

like today: i watched how U-KRA-I-NA
somehow managed to beat Sweden to reach
the quarter-finals...
i was jealous of the chad...
oh i'm sure there are plenty Ukrainian girls
readied for the saddle...
be bothered... be bothered...
sure... i'll be bothered:
sights of virgins?
give me 72 rottweilers...
and all the ****** you can manage in between:
i rather pay for what i the money allows...
i don't need pretences... lies...
faking it...
                  
   every time i feed into a little trickle of jealousy...
i'm reminded by a...
single thread of cobweb that covers my eyes...
when i walk into the garden for some ice...
always this single thread of cobweb
that's always aimed at my eyes...
how often does something have to become
plain: before it becomes this: blatantly
obvious...
                there's no Wittgenstein to mind
the tautology i just leveraged...

should i feel effeminate(d) cleaning my own
bathroom? i'm no actor... model a tourist of
the visage... but i want to live in a clean house...
where cats also occupy the same space...
i need a sterile environment to breathe in...
this is... somehow... a feminine trait?
primo! *******!
  i like a clean house because:
i like a clean house... however pedantic it comes
across..

even if i tried: by rhyme alone...
this was never going to be a revisionist take
on the divine comedy...
how many bad ideas have survived...
it's not "we" don't welcome them into the confines
of the dodo-project...

for the love of cooking:
or rather... not undercooking potatoes
for a salad... i had one of these...
over-cooking pasta that made a man...
deservedly abandon the woman
and eat take-away...
over-cooked pasta: let's... just...
eat... raw.... carrots... parsnips...
there are no obligations:
but there are also no obligations
for 3rd party resources
to cook **** for you!

               the saying goes:
the most impressive footballer in the world...
but he can't: can't he?
make his own...
carbonara? well then... the most impressive
footballer he is: finite specialisations
of "competence"...

i can't compete...
mundane moi: if i were only allowed to do one
thing proper...
but i haven't: therefore i wouldn't...
it bugs me though:
a little trickle of jealousy and i'm reminded...
by a single thread of cobweb
in the garden that somehow covers my eyes....

it's hard to think beside the already arrived at...
this immovable object...
with thinking reaching fantasies
of telekinesis... etc.
there's no potential... there's just this...
wall of sinew.