Saturday, July 02, 2005

Current Musical Selection: Kenny Rogers - Just Dropped In

well this is a moment folks. i do believe this is my first legal download of music from the internet... now thats not to say that none of the songs i have now, are of anything but illegal nature... but this is the very first, on-demand, type of purchase ive ever made. yes. i resorted to the shit snorting itunes site to do it. so... of all the non-conformist, unrecognizeable artists one-hit songs that are never attributed to them... i chose this one. cracks me up every time i hear it on the Big Lebowski. so i thought id start it up... just to see what condition my condition was in.

Sunday, June 26, 2005

Current Musical Selection: Audioslave - Like A Stone

well.... hunched over a fuming bucket of chemical stripper, i found myself questioning why i was hanging around here. its a warm, bright, friday night. the kind of night everyone has plans for. the ones where youd be damned to find a keg of natty light in stock anywhere in this town. and im up to my elbows under shelving units, trying to erase the pile of goo thats all over my floors. its staples. its sterile. or atleast i will be after all these fun fumes im breathing in. i guess some people find out things about their life in the oddest of circumstances. i think i found a pen. or a french fry. regardless. after picking out all the recongnizeable pieces of shit i find, i get to bathe this whole area in something we dropped out of planes in Vietnam. except this bucket is purple. clearly the orange would have clashed with staples color pallet. its a hazy synthetic smell. not overpowering. not pleasant either. but it waifes about. some times i can smell it, sometimes i cant when i walk away from the bucket. i could have always burnt out my mucus membranes, so im not really sure. the shit is quite slick. slippery. but after i slop a pool on the blackened and gunky tile, the shit starts to congeal. after twenty minutes it will buble. thicken. stink more. then cure into stringy bits of shit, the shit that used to be on the floor, into a rubber cement like substance... that glistens more like snails or semen. then i get to use these fabulous rubber gloves and scoop it all up into a bucket and bag. then deposit it directly in the dumpster. its a good feeling! must not have been a pen. maybe some sort rodent tail. regardless. its a friday night, and im evaluating the shit thats rotting underneath shelves. i wonder to myself, where did i loose any sense of a life i had? how come im not one of those people, getting phone calls about the hot party, or the cool place to be? when did i become so, so fauxpaux that i get this treatment? ick. some of it sloshed back on my arms. i can feel it run down them like water... yet it feels heavier than water. or more lathargic. more blackish stuff to scrape up. id get sick of it. but i dont have much else to work with. it is a friday night. and. somehow that means im the only one that doesnt have plans. well me, and the gi joe arm i found under this pannel. everyone else has something to do. someone to do, even. and im scraping away the staples barnicles from the shelves. at 9pm at night. and its a friday. i always sort of figured i wasnt popular. but never this bad. never this much stuff stuck to the tile. never had to use a nylon brush on the shit before either. its alot like scouring pots and pans really. just with more caustic chemicals. and i suppose ive applied my own variety of caustic wipes over the years to my friends and social life. but alot like the tiles, ive kinda been cut through a bit too much i suppose. when the colored striations of the tile come off... then i know ive put a bit too much stripper on it. so i take a wet paper towel, and i wipe it down, feeling the smooth, pale color of acid burned tiles through the rubber gloves. and that leaves me with another 4 foot done. i take a razorblade tool and do the last bit of scrapings to pull the now snot-like strings up off the tiles, so i can take clean water and mop it off. friday night isnt all that great. i gotta tell myself that. i have to lie, and say how much im not affected... or is it effected by friday nights anymore. unlike the cool kids... the guys driving motorcycles shirtless past me with blonde girls on the back of the bikes. seems like everybody has some place to get to. cept me. thats why i get to clean and peel off the shit from the floor. staples janitor all the way. and its friday night. my phone rang as i was walking into the building. for minute... i just got happy.. relieved that maybe id have an excuse... that id have a reason... or a life. it was an automated message from my bank, reminding me to authorize this month bill pays online. i savored it. as much as anyone should. in fact.. i wish id let it go to voice mail... so i could listen to it again, as i searched for the tubs of chemicals... so that i could use it like a parachute... to bail me at the last second, from plummeting downwards in the uncontrolled spiral... that would save me. that would pull me up.... and separate me from the earth once again. but by the time i thought of that, id already found the gloves. it was a little late. even though it was very early on a friday night.