dice a doctor david, donde es la dolor?

this is me being whiny.

reverendave — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 03:21:55 GMT

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fxvGHQHiY70 my music collection is currently split up between my friend's house & the trunk of my car. it's breaking my heart. i think i've picked up my trombone twice in the last 4 months. the midwest does not do wonders for my state of mental well-being. anybody got a spare drumset?

an amazing journey of self-discovery

reverendave — Fri, 11 Jul 2008 18:09:16 GMT

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MrFaD4LykYc so, i don't remember exactly how i found this out, but apparently i share a birthday w/this guy.

what happened to the animals?

reverendave — Tue, 01 Jul 2008 07:15:17 GMT

went to see the animals play opening night at summerfest. easily the worst show i've seen this year, & i even accidentally saw a fucking soundgarden cover band a few months ago. the reason this was worse was because i was expecting so much more from them. it was heartbreaking.

racine. the city.

reverendave — Wed, 21 May 2008 17:27:54 GMT

yup, i'm here again. john's cat might've saved me from jail at the border patrol. went to a wedding the day after our arrival. i might currently have 2 jobs in milwaukee. it's nice to see trees & such again. still, gotta admit, i've been here just under a week now, & i'm ready to move on.

so long, AZ...

reverendave — Mon, 05 May 2008 04:52:10 GMT

huh. just found out today we have a week to vacate the premises. so, looks like it's time for jefferson & i to take a road trip. WI, here we come! once again! then i might be moving to portland w/some friends, maybe. life's funny.

feeling nostalgic for milwaukee maybe.

reverendave — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 08:03:16 GMT

so i felt like posting a blog entry, but i forgot what i was gonna say. i should be sleeping right now. here's a random sampling of some of my old refrigerator magnet poems. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- breath gone to gold through a shadow of trust raw from use though lazy this spring put a shake to it and never leave ----- after a lick a fast moan peach job but ever want always ----- rob my song and mean it all i can tell you is the show is a lie ----- sit less and shine live at the water blow rhythm at the sad hour ache here put juice in my voice the summer will smear you ----- say love yet think rust we cry softly then drool the story like my enormous word storm only you wear those pants and how i do stare how about the corduroy ----- beauty has a week or a life i felt power behind you and love or was it lust ----- manipulate animal wind pound a frantic whisper like milk worship she can play ferocious ask his tv mother ----- why not go wild if beneath me from some arm of summer ----- most like him joyous but boy he urge think about it the will to use it no balm under the mist must rain come at me ----- dream on earth baby ask away say i open a true feast say how you feel is swimming and warm be here steam their bitter forests beat language and picture some morning bare as sky you for me like spring star of bed hair after the light ----- huh. ok, so rather than just a random sampling, that's everything i have written down. anyhow, there it is.

webster's dictionary

reverendave — Sun, 30 Mar 2008 08:06:48 GMT

ok, so i know that maybe i shouldn't admit to having a webster's dictionary in a public forum in the 1st place, but it's what i had. if it makes me look any better, i will say that i'm pretty sure i didn't pay for it. anyhow, so i was looking up a word earlier today, & lo & behold, forty is in the dictionary. fucking forty! is in the fucking dictionary! & you know what it gave as a definition? the number after 39! no shit! i'm not making this up. also, there is an entry for fourteen. the sum of one & thirteen. seriously. so, some time tomorrow i think i'm throwing out my dictionary, & getting a new one if i can come up w/enough expendable monies.

HOLY GUCKING FUCEKDY FUCHK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

reverendave — Mon, 24 Dec 2007 09:55:56 GMT

i done broke my trombone. anybody got a soldering iron? i'll be your best friend.................forever, fairly likely.................

title

reverendave — Fri, 30 Nov 2007 07:39:40 GMT

objective consideration of contemporary phenomena compels the conclusion that success or failure in competitive activities exhibits no tendency to be commensurate with innate capacity, but that a considerable element of the unpredictable must invariably be taken into account. -george orwell, 1946 i saw under the sun that the race is not to the swift. -ecclesiastes, back in the day

jane the phoole

reverendave — Thu, 24 May 2007 17:53:51 GMT

so i just found out that milwaukee is currently the only city in the country to have an official jester. & during the day she works at city hall. sweet, except that now i know my dream job is taken...

etiquette

reverendave — Sat, 19 May 2007 22:32:24 GMT

"Do not move back & forth in your chair. Whoever does this gives the impression of constantly farting or trying to fart." -On Civility in Children (1530) "No decent person laughs at a funeral." -The Bazar Book of Decorum (1870) "When not practical for individuals to occupy separate beds, the persons should be of about the same age, & in good health. Numerous cases have occurred where healthy, robust children have 'dwindled away' & died w/in a few months, from sleeping w/old people." -The People's Common Sense Medical Adviser (1876) "It is not the correct thing to put the spoon or fork so far into the mouth that the bystanders are doubtful of its return to the light." -The Correct Thing in Good Society (1902) "Never put your cold, clammy hands on a person, saying, 'Did you ever know anyone to have such cold hands as mine?'" -Manners for Millions (1932) "Applause is out of order at any religious service." -Your Best Foot Forward (1955)

milwaukee ghosts

reverendave — Tue, 08 May 2007 18:25:10 GMT

so i just read yesterday that the Pfister Hotel (the p is silent), in lovely downtown milwaukee, is home to a ghost who's known as Aunt Pussy.

?

reverendave — Fri, 20 Apr 2007 21:19:39 GMT

on the other side of some hill was a battle. here, on the field w/Gen. Poupineet, Adm. Ploppentratt, in the arms of Madame Bovynauverie, disclaimed aloud, & loudly, "that's hot! the slot i trot, i trot a lot. your pants, madame, your pants...are filled w/the magic of a million & one ants..." these hottentots are hot to trot, no doubt about it. no two ways about it. Gen. P had made his career on the discovery that behind the known works of Heironymous Bosch was an Anonymous Splotch. this, as they say, was the one that got away. Private Floppenschtopp was a brigadier then. he remembers well the pants of Madame Bovynauverie: "the hillocks do arrive to a round of sputum..." (tune of Sound of Music) he sang this ode, & a few others, to mostly deaf ears. one day someone listened. then someone else listened...eventually the whole town heard. "he's mad!", they cried. "raving! obscene!", they disparaged. the guillotine was out being cleaned. "put him on the rack & pinion!", & so he was steered away. Poupineet & Ploppentrott, on their horses, witnessed the whole thing, having stayed behind, having forgot the war. of course they were mortified. "Bosch's Splotch foresaw this plot." much at a loss to reply to this declaration, Ploppentrott, feebly: "yes, it's a sad day in the history of war. one of our own has taken to singing, aloud, & loudly, base praises & unchaste phrases of the sometimes basted pleasures of the tight-panted hillocks of our hasty mistress, the glorious, & many gloried, Madame Bovynauverie. where is she, anyway?" Poupineet, lost in his own internal discourse, made no discernable reply, but muttered, just audibly, something about a foul stench eminating from somewhere in the viscinity of the underside of his steed. "Ploppentrott, it's time for our animals to bathe. &, oh, yes, the war...well, it'll still be here tomorrow..." & so off they rode, together, into the sunset, into those glorious hillocks over yonder, that eternal womb, where all is clean & glistening; where all day, & a good part of the night, we swim the amniotic waves, & our missives always hit their right-mark'd ears, w/out fail, & who can blame them?

a dream

reverendave — Fri, 20 Apr 2007 01:19:29 GMT

so, i'm hanging out at my parents' house w/rachel, matt & john, only now it's my house. rachel is inside watching tv, i have no idea where john is, & matt is outside--every time i look he's in a different spot. r seems to've just gotten out of the shower. she's lying on the floor, on her stomach, in a robe, in front of the tv. i get down behind her, lift her robe up, & start sorta teasing her. next thing i know she's on her back, arching her neck back so she can continue to watch tv. so this goes on for a while & then all of a sudden she seems mad. the warmth sorta seeps away, disappears from between her legs. so i go out on the porch. m has got a pile of some sort of soft materials, & appears to be building something. i go back inside, repeat process w/r, same end result, i go back outside w/m again. he's still building something. it's slowly taking shape. i look up. there're people wandering down the street, 2 on this side & 1 on the other, w/trays strapped to themselves & sticking straight out, like cigarette girls from back in the day. & this is what they are. the 1 on the other side of the street stops at every house. the 2 on this side are walking in the street. it seems they're trying not to look like they're avoiding us. m & i notice this at the same time. i look at him, he looks at me, & he says something to the effect of "why don't they stop here?" i look over at them again. they're walking up the driveway now. seems they're gonna stop here. no, they're headed to the neighbor's house. they notice he's not there & go back to the street & continue on their way. i look at m & say "you could go to them". he takes a cigarette out of his mouth to say "i'm trying not to run too fast". i look at him quizzically for a moment, think about asking him to explain, & decide against it. i look back across the street. the cigarette girl over there is now riding a bigwheel in the gutter. this seems strange to me so i watch for a minute. she rides it up the curb in a way that, for some reason, coupled w/the dimensions of the bigwheel, looks really funny. i hear m laugh. i turn around, look at him, & i laugh too. 1 of us, not sure which, says something to the effect of "i was sure she was gonna tip over". i go back inside, look at r, & come back out. m is done w/his project. he's built a dog. looks like a stuffed animal. it just sorta sits there, but it's alive. it looks just like sheba, the last dog i had at my parents' house. i say to m "you built my dog". he says "i built it based on a dog i had once that had feathers". i look closely, & sure enough it's got feathers. i'd thought it was just really fluffy. i pet it some & it sits up. at this point i hear a door slam. i look up & r is standing in the doorway, opening & shutting the door. the last time she shuts it i hear her yell "ouch" behind it. so i get up to go in & see if she's alright. before i can get there the door's open again & she says "dave, how do i get rid of the juice, or whatever you call it?". i ask "what juice?", & as she doesn't seem to want to respond, i start to get an idea what she's talking about. i'm remembering she's self-conscious about her odor. so i come into the house & the place reeks of her. i sort of involuntarily gasp when i step through the door. she says "see what i mean? i knew once you started 1 thing'd lead to another & m would know what's up." it makes no sense to me that this'd matter to her. i look outside--he's started another project--i turn to her &, not knowing what to say, try to appease her with "um, yeah." of course this doesn't work. she says back to me in a sarcastic tone "um, yeah?". then i look & notice she's got a table set up in the middle of the room. on it are all sorts of bottles & cups & bowls of different liquid solutions, douchebags, things that look like they could be dildoes, & some whirring vibrating machine that i'm afraid to ask about. stunned, i sort of 1/2-mutter, 1/2-exclaim, "jesus christ!". she, of course taking this as a comment on her smell, flies into some incomprehensible rage that i quickly tune out. i walk around to the other side of the table (it's a pretty big table), & notice that it's sort of jiggling around. i assume it's the machine that's doing this, & i don't want all of her weird potions to fall on the carpet, but i'm reluctant to go anywhere near that machine, so i bend down & try to sorta hold the table in place. this doesn't work. i stand up again, & now i notice j standing next to r, where i was a minute ago, 1 foot on the ground & the other on 1 of the crossbars of the table, & he's jiggling that 1, the way he sometimes tends to. i go over to him & say "j, you've got your foot on something". he says "oh yeah", & continues to shake the table. then r says "j, you've got your foot on something". he, w/the most vacant look i've ever seen on a face (i regret a little bit that this is the only part he plays in this dream), says "what is it?". i walk away & again mutter "jesus christ!". this is where i wake up, so i never find out what m's new project is, or if r gets her 'problem' taken care of. oh yeah--the dog had 5 tags on its collar. 2 of them had my name on them, 1 had a different name, & the other 2 had no name. also, there was a sort of miniature cowbell, & 1 or 2 jinglebells.

cop

reverendave — Tue, 17 Apr 2007 21:20:25 GMT

yesterday i saw a cop talking on his cell while driving.

fer fock's sake

reverendave — Tue, 10 Apr 2007 15:51:13 GMT

so i sneezed at work today & split my upper lip. why does god hate me?