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04/30/07 09:05 - 61ºF - ID#39109

For U Buffalo H8tahs

I found this article while looking for a picture of the Hutchinson house which is now the leveled parking lot of the Saturn club.

Here is an excerpt:

There is a fine line between something and nothing and Buffalo manages to walk it straight despite the large quantities of alcohol it consumed in hopes of blurring that line just a little wider. Unlike other cities, where it's easy to sink into the flow of everything's fine, in Buffalo, you must be a prophet or drown in utter mediocrity. Buffalo demands existential authenticity, and the rock we push up the hill (only to have it roll back down over us time and time again) is our only salvation. Like Rimbaud in the gutters and back-alleys of Paris, in Buffalo, you have no choice but to remake life; there's no bullshit left to buy, no palace gates to hide behind (I endure Siddhartha Gautama's 4 passing sights whenever I walk out my front door). Buffalo is the most advanced city in America; we progressed beyond progress.

And the full deal is here

enjoy kittens
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Permalink: For_U_Buffalo_H8tahs.html
Words: 181
Location: Buffalo, NY

04/29/07 08:11 - 49ºF - ID#39088

Saving a dead whale for supper.

Damn, I am good.

I don't say this to pat myself on the back. For I am pliable enough to do that myself and I am sitting down now anyway and the patting would be uncomfortable for the both of us.

But we are moving in a month, and over the two years we have lived here I have become my mother. This is not to say I have at any point lactated or made someone believe baby Jesus cries when you touch yourself; rather I have collected enough food to stock a bomb shelter for however long the half-life of Plutonium is.

I have no intention of moving several thousand pounds of adzuki beans, a metric ton of brown rice, an drum of olive oil, and enough canned tomatoes to bomb Drezden to the ground. So, it is up to me to use this cyclopian collection of foods up.

It was easy enough at first, there were palatable connections to make among the items. But over the last few weeks the options have become less enjoyable. Tonight I had a 28oz can of crushed tomatoes, some half and half about to expire, stale abarito rice, and various fresh foods. I should mention that out of concern for using all these staples, I have been ignoring all the veggies which are in various stages of rotting.

Well, creamy tomato risotto with chicken sausage and crimany mushrooms actually came out well. But I am affraid i am running out of possibilities. What do you do with a pound of freeze dried shitaki mushrooms, cannelloni beans and lasagna noodles? And if you say shitaki bean lasagna I wont hear of it. I wont make another culinary abortion like that.

But, just three more weeks until the moving van is here and life can resume to normal. And I can begin creating another future crisis of too much food that doesn't go together.
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Permalink: Saving_a_dead_whale_for_supper_.html
Words: 320
Location: Buffalo, NY

04/26/07 02:56 - 58ºF - ID#39056

My Silly Phobia

Hi folks,

If anyone is planning on using this information to torture/murder me I must warn you, it wont be easy.

I have a phobia, and it is really weird. Do you know anyone else that has this, because it is starting to make me think I am too weird for my own good; moving from charmingly eccentric to fucking psychotic.

I get really freaked out by gas giant planets. Jupiter is alright, but Neptune and Uranus boarder on bowel loosening terror. Recently, the discovery of this earth like planet were cause of panic. The planet itself is sufficiently earth like to be fine, but it's sun is much smaller and cooler than ours and looms 5x larger in the sky than our sun does. That was close enough to a gas giant to really let me get nervous. Imagine, the very life giving sun above your head is the source of your terror? What a hellish planet. I nearly spent the remander of the day under the bed sheets, shivering.

So, does anyone else suffer from this malady? Know anyone? Or am I stranded in this neurosis alone?

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Permalink: My_Silly_Phobia.html
Words: 193
Location: Buffalo, NY

04/25/07 03:52 - 45ºF - ID#39039

What happened?

Dear me,

What ever happened to the hardened alcoholic I fell in love with all those years ago? I used to watch you, in an existential sort of way, do a shot of grain alcohol and chase it with plastic jug popov vodka and smile. Oh, you would smile. For you were getting drunk, way too drunk to tell the difference between alcohol and laundry soap. But he's dead now. The self I fell in love with is dead to us all now.


I thought I would take a nostalgic drink down memory lane and picked up a bottle of Seagrams lime infused gin. Last time I had a bottle of this particular gin I was atop a mountain in Pennsylvania along the Appalachian trail, tripping my face off with about eight other people. It was crisp and delicious, the way anything can be while on drugs if you convince yourself enough of it.

Man, while cultivating a certain refinement I didn't think my appreciation for the shittier things in life would wane. But wane they have. I have become spoiled by good wine and beer, leaving my love for cheap but plentiful hard liquor behind. And sad to say my first alcohol soaked love, gin, went first. But I thought I would be safe. I could still drink my cheap brand x whiskey. But that sweet, sweet taste of Jamison makes me wonder why I don't shack up with him.

For the first time in my life I can't help but to think that life would have been better had I been born in a prison. That way I could have raised my palate on toilet hooch. And now, among men of the free world, I would be wide eyed in wonderment that a drink doesn't cause throat scaring. That people have liquor cabinets and bars, not storing them in plastic bags in a toilet tank.

Truly, it would be a wonderful world.
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Permalink: What_happened_.html
Words: 325
Location: Buffalo, NY

04/20/07 12:07 - 46ºF - ID#38975

Makes you want to throw up dosn't it?


So, how about fighting religious extremists at home?
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Permalink: Makes_you_want_to_throw_up_dosn_t_it_.html
Words: 10
Location: Buffalo, NY

04/19/07 10:55 - 45ºF - ID#38955

My Favorite Republican

Right now I am listening to Alberto Gonzalez testify before the senate judiciary committee. Al's voice sounds so soft. I imagine him wide eyed, doe like. Naughty boy is going to be spanked. And he is.

So far, I want to make dirty sweet love to Arlen Specter in thanks. That man knows how to rake someone over the coals while sounding paternal.

Al's strategy so far is
1) "I can't recall"
2) "Kyle Sampson has that information"

But Arlen, how you cut through that. Asking Al "Do you prepare for all of your hearings? Do you prepare for all your press conferences?" Oh yes, YES YES! You just hit my g-spot Mr. Gentleman from Pennsylvania. Hit that! YA!

I really don't know much about Specter on many of the issues. But during the confirmation hearings for Harriet Myers, Sammy Alito DAMN! Specter fucked their shit up! I don't care if he wants to burn all the gays, deport the Jews, and enslave the blacks. He knows how to toss daggers with kisses from his jowly mouth.

You are my favorite Republican Mr. Specter.

You hear that John McCain? Ya, you knew you were on my shit list from your shift from Maverick Republican with principle to Straight Talk Crap Express far right wing blow job giving dog. But you a buried beneith the specter of your former self... that and Arlen Specter. It is over between us. Mail back the ring, no, pawn it. I don't want it anyway.


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Permalink: My_Favorite_Republican.html
Words: 250
Location: Buffalo, NY

04/18/07 02:33 - 42ºF - ID#38941

Just so you know

In Virginia 33 people were killed.

Between this weekend and today about 500 people were killed in several separate bomb attacks including 178 today alone.

So, what exactly makes a tragedy? Proximity? Perceived kinship?
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Permalink: Just_so_you_know.html
Words: 31
Location: Buffalo, NY

04/12/07 01:19 - 49ºF - ID#38859

Drinking the Sabres Kool-Aid

I don't like watching sports, at all. Background human interest:

In high school my best friend and I thought about what makes sports so popular. And, like most things, we determined it was fantastical violence. And so, we set out to create the most dangerous, violent sport.

It began by trying to get a ball from one side of the court to the other. Simple enough. You would have to run up step ladders and jump off the top, hurl yourself over fields of saw horses, climb up a tree and jump to its neighbor. All the while your opponent tries to hit you with a stick, hard, very hard. Contact me if you want to buy a local franchise for a "Super Danger Future Ball" team.

And now, the Sabers.

Tonight begins the play offs. A time it is dangerous to not only be a fan of an opposing team, but equally dangerous to not be enthusiastically a Sabers fan.

And so, with ice pack ready, I must march into the maelstrom and show some love for our team (All Buffalonians exempt from giving a damn about the Bills). But it is incredibly easy to do so. I don't need to watch a game to know the score of a game. I need only listen to the screams and cheers that pour out of the Elmwood bars. If I was knoced into a coma during the game I can know who won by how many cars are honking.

If we lose? Ah, well then I can look for broken beer bottles all along the streets and sidewalks. Much fun when you walk a dog. Thank you dicks. Suck it up.

But, one thing is clear, for as long as the Sabers are in the play offs the city is going to buzz with overwhelming, singular Sabers energy. It makes it tough for someone like me, who could care less about any sports team, to not feel a glimmer of hope and pride.

And if you repeat that with anyone I challenge you to a game of Super Danger Future Ball.
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Permalink: Drinking_the_Sabres_Kool_Aid.html
Words: 351
Location: Buffalo, NY

04/10/07 11:21 - 33ºF - ID#38834

Craig's List Personal Ads


I have been reading craig's list incessantly for the past week. It has been a slow week, what can I say. The M4W ads will some day in the future be considered the highest form of literature, leaving poetry and the novel in it's terrible wake.

But then, it happened.

I saw an ad that could only have been writen by a younger version of me.

"I am a computer geek as well, and I play D&D. I am a pretty good listener, and will put up with a lot. I am a nice guy, but I do have a breaking point. I only seek meaningful relationships, and sexual activity means very little to me. I am looking for a girl with a nice personality, decent looks and a bit of geekiness.Whether she just likes to read, or she is a full blown computer nut, some kind of geek girl would be great."

Oh yes. It is horrible to have the mirror put to yourself and discover that you have been a Medusa all along.

Well, I no longer play D&D.
I never dated girls (nothing personal ladies)
and sexual activity means a good deal to me

But man, at age 17? Roll that 3D6 to determine your social awkwardness.

Thankfully, there are thousands of other ads written seemingly by married men who's brains are nulled by the syphilis eating them. And I can go about my casual reading unreflectivly. But always knowing at home is a giant bag full of dice buried in a mound of sex toys.
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Permalink: Craig_s_List_Personal_Ads.html
Words: 265
Location: Buffalo, NY

04/09/07 10:25 - 33ºF - ID#38825

Breakfast at Tiffany's

I have never seen this movie. Which makes me the only gay guy in this or any universe who has not had a hard on for Audrey Hepburn. And I am happy to be flaccid before her image. And while watching, sans boner, I couldn't help be think to myself.
"Boy, the love interest couldn't be gayer." He screams big homo. A writer in New York who is payed to have sex with an older patron? Ya, I am sure Truman Capote wasn't writing his fat pansy ass into that role. Replace older married woman with a closeted married homo and two and two equals four.
I had to ask, were people in the early 60's dumb enough to fall for this? I haven't seen this overtly gay a character since I watched "Gang-Bang Street Trade 3" earlier this evening. The characters in that one were much more sympathetic by the way.
I find Capote's prose to be effective. It is stylish and overwrought enough to be charming. But have a hack screenwriter make a script out of the novel (which I have not read, I can only comment about some of his shorter, latter pieces) and suddenly a dim whited child is flailing about a canister of film better used for "Gang-Bang Street Trade 4: Prussian Gushers".

And seriously, Henry Manccini? Are you listening in hell? Writing one song and rearranging it for two fucking hours is no way to write a score. Sure, it was a lovely song. But Christ man, Christ!

On the bright side, the trained cat kicked ass. I didn't think you could even train cats to do anything other than piss you off and shoot dander everywhere.
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Permalink: Breakfast_at_Tiffany_s.html
Words: 281
Location: Buffalo, NY



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