• stuff I call: "art"!?
• bio
• poem
• stuff I call: "art"!?
• bio
foreplay:on every page, almost - on every site - well, on almost every site; I see the word "top" at the bottom or in between stuff - a way to make it easy for you to click and get back to the start. this is a very considerate maneuver and I do the same thing. but to be even more considerate, if you wanna skip this whole mess and go down there first...click "bottom" - but don't fret: there's a top at the bottom if you wanna get back "up here"!
---so, ok...the ultimate goal of this page is not my ultimate goal, so I'll do it now but by the time you read this, it'll already be done and--let's rolllll my beautiful lean footage...
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I like to snack. I have to snack. I need sugar. sugar gives me energy. I have to have a snack and rejuvenate my energy 1x a day, at least. my snack time is timed and measured: 6:p.m. SHARP -eastern day-or-night-light time - and one precise cup of snack is all it takes. I set my alarm to 'snack time' and if the alarm clock malfunctions or if I happen to nap at that time someplace other than where my alarm clock is, I just do the next best thing: transfix myself into my across-the-street neighbors' attitude with pounding fists at my chest, jUmPinG-uP-aNd-DoWn while yodeling t-rex sounds at the top of my lungs - in the middle of the street on the white line (if there was a white line down the center of the cul-de-sac) - king-kong sight! - much the same as a rejection tantrum an avon lady throws who's had a door slapped in her face. (ding-dong!) cinnamon toast crunch was tops on my list of snacks for about a year, then I noticed my toes starting to swell, the sides of my feet and heels overlapping the edges and the backs of my old pink-faded embedded-embroidered-flower-like, 70ish type flip-flops. something told me either to heave the flip-flops or abstain from 'snack-time'. well, these flip-flops have walked me through plenty of sentimental journeys over the years and the bottoms might be thin, flat and they have a tendency to flop now more than flip but I decided I couldn't and wouldn't give up memories and I am not into abstinence of any kind. so, I researched cinnamon toast crunch and found that this stuff was a definate hazard to anybody's foot-health. I followed up on other snack-type cereals. I go for cereal as a snack because of fewer calories and less zit and boil-like side effects like chocolate and greasy, salty potato chips have. something had to be better. and there was, to a certain extent. the final result ()see results below.() froot loops. they contained less sugars and allthat other stuff and the "fun colored confetti" made it all worthwhile. so I buy froot loops via the econo pkg, which contains 2 giant bags of the little crunchy kaleidescopic hoOps. I remove the bags from the bulky box because they fit better into the cabinet overtop the stove in the kitchen. plus you can see the pretty cherry berry swirls though the waxed bag. it's convenient, brilliant, colorful plus it's a psychedelic addition to any household inside kitchen cabinet. and after I open a bag, I clip the top with one of those potato chip bag-clippers and put it back on the shelf overtop the right side of the stove - always in the same place. I am inside a cup of canival every night and all this is not so bad for a second-best energy snack. but it was the other night, 10 after six. I woke with three dogs serene between my legs and Roseanne glaring at me with those jeresy-devil eyes on the other side of the boob tube (I swear that gurl picks her nose and eats it.- get a load of the shape of that honker of hers, next time you watch-but that's another story) and I rushed to the kitchen for my snack, opened the cabinet door overtop the stove, automatically grabbed the bag that was in it's right place, by the chip-clip at the top while I opened the door of the cabinet to my right and reached for a little bowl to put my fruity jubilee in. I had the loopbag that was almost empty. I put the bowl down on the countertop and began to unclip the top. I looked through the waxed bag and started screaming to the top of my lungs. the dogs began barking and howling because I was screaming. I whirled around and threw that bag of fruity festival across the room screaming and screaming like that king-kong stunt I mentioned above! all three dogs went over to investigate and barked at the bag, then looked back at me and barked on, waiting for my next move. o my god, what do I do now, I thought. the clip was still on the top of the bag. there were dozenS of giant black ants inside MY bag of snacks. black ants big enough to harness, saddle and ride into SOMEBODY'S FUCKIN' HORIZON....LIKE WHEREVER! those big black ants came inside from outside and were feasting on my froot loops. me and my froot loops had been violated! I wanted to cry. I did cry; not because I was missing my snack, but because I HATE BUGS and I didn't wanna touch that bag and I didn't want them touching me! I had to get rid of them fast. I looked under the sink cabinet for bug spray: none. I don't use hairspray, that was out as a method of death for those pesky bacteria carrying germ-spewing pests. then I wondered if there were any in that bag the night before... even one. I coulda ate antshit and not known it. I couldn't tell antshit from confetti-specs but it's eventually inevitable: ants hafta poop too. now I wanted revenge and I also began to feel sick inside. I opened the butcher knife drawer and took a set of hot dog thongs and I got the nerve to go over near the bag. I looked down. the dogs barked and watched my slow, teeny moves closer to the bag of bugs. man, o god, they sure were all over my froot loops like homeless drunks fighting over a last bottle of beer. there was only one thing I could think of. I leaned down but kept my distance, picked the bag up with the mouth of the thongs, held the thongs closed tight, kept the bag as far away from me as my arm could stretch and I walked to the bathroom. the dogs followed. the dogs still barked at the bag and at the screechy noises I made as I carried them away from me. I released the bag from the hot dog thongs with all of the giant ants, antpiss, shit and fruit loops still inside the bag, on the rug, in front of the toilet... with me and the dogs. "dear god," I prayed, "let me aim these things and flush before they crawl up and down and all over me and my dogs." then I thought: christ, they could be killer ants! just then I took the clip off the top of the bag fast but carefully, turned the bag upside down, emptied the loops, ants and anyantthing else that was in that bag into the toilet. they struggled and wobbled as they circulated into the sucking currents of the flush. I went back into the kitchen and opened the cabinet door where the froot loops had been. THERE WAS A GIANT BLACK ANT scurrying around. . . I shut the door quick! |
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| SERVING | CALOR. | FAT | FIBER | PROTEIN | CARB. | SODIUM | CALCIUM | |
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| CINNAMON TOAST CRUNCH (GM) |
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I should be humpin'...
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proceeds benefit the-hold.com (not my gambling abilities)
• BIO |
•program note: misrepretation and/or illimination and/or illumination or any maneuvers, manipulations, malfunctions and/or damnations, simple crucifixions of any and/all punctuation, alien pronunciations, unwanted missionary sentences, juji-fruit phrases; domestic, foreign and/or down-rightous filth and/or goin' down on any raw materials lurkin' about, is my own perogative - piss off if you have a gripe! positive comments always welcomed. |
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