aquarius: just so you know, you're not the only ones who have your zodiac sign in a song. there is also this beastie boys song in which one of em (i can never get it straight, which one's mike d again?) proclaims his scorpio-ness. BUT- the good news is-- your song, the dawning of the age of and so on, IS the most famous!! i (and the stars) encourage you to go out and CELEBRATE your astrological FAME with a cigarillo or mudslide of your choice. isn't it awesome to be famous???

scorpio: see above. your sign too, is in a song, just a really obscure one!! mike d (screech's older brother-ha!)'s line is "i'ma scorpio, so, y'know i'm very sexual." damn right! like a neon heartthrob, you'll pulse a soft pink light into these waning summer nights, infusing them with sexualness. your sexualness will be like a polyester peach nighty on a sweltering humid midnightscape, shiny and sticking to the skin. like a sandy beach, you'll have a tendency to get in people's crotches. watch out for vd. and pirahnas, of course.

pisces: we may lose and we may win, but we will never be here again. so pack it up i'm climbin in, and take it eeeeeeee zeeee.

virgo: you should spend some time channeling the power of your unknown missing body part this week. what might it be? a rigatoni shaped appendage for displaying glass baubles bought at mysterious art fairs? a flagellum for moving oneself out of a confused state or a lumpy couch? a stamen for impregnating airborne ideas? it's so up to you, but whatever it is, it has tremendous power. channel it baby.

aries: there is an elaborate expressionist art plot in store for you. be cued by any thick black lines in your life, begin to walk through doors as though they were askew a la cheap carny funhouses. love, eat, and talk slashily this week. welcome the slants, and life may begin to take on a very edward scissorhandish quality. i mean the mansion and stuff, not the pastel suburb part. ahem. i thought he was kinda hot, that edward scissorhands.

AND RAT-A-TAT-TAT-T-DOW!!!!


phew, that felt good. plus i'm cracking myself up over here. i looooove cracking myself up. ask paul. he totally knows.

like the chinese and japanese and some other cultures i'm sure except that i don't know anything about them at all, i would like it if a "letter" (character) meant a whole word or even a whole phrase. here are a few in the language del trisha

this is the character for what jessica simpson, inc. did to britney spears, inc.


this one means "you can't go to the bathroom right now"


this means "the stars at night are big and bright, deep in the heart of texas"




does anyone want to start a goofy olympics with me? watching them on the teevee makes me think that these people are superhumans with amazing powers liken to gods, and i forget that myself and the people around me all have special powers too. the olympics is bad for one's self esteem, is basically what i'm saying. so what, so i can't do triple backflips into a 360 half twist into a three quarter pike off of an eighty foot platform from a handstand position. (that makes no sense to you fans of diving out there but that's beside the point). so that makes me MERE?? that makes me PLEBIAN? screw you, all you athletes of the olympics, and all your lifetime of hard work and relentless training, i'm special too dammit cause i can.........umm........i can........mmmmmmmmm........MAKE UP MY OWN LITTLE LANGUAGE!!! yeah. take that, bitches. so if anyone can think up goofy events that we can goofily "compete" at, with a goofy scoring system and those delicious chocolate discs covered with gold medal foil as the prize on high, let's go for it. ha! athletes can't eat chocolate......

ma soeur est enceinte
elle est seulement seize
le coeur de ma grand-mere palpite
chaque fois elle parle d'il

so last night for the second time, i exchanged exhilaratingly sexually loaded witticisms with my little black haired ponytailed vixen, who teases and flirts me up to no end and for whom i "have to wait till sunday for", when i'm coming over to "walk her dog" (her words). a sunday that may never come since this is basically a thunderstorm of my subconscious, conscious, id, ego, superego, and what have you. i am sleeping soundly during these tart trysts "in real life". what is that though> and where> and whence?

there are many suspicions i have about dreams. come visit me, mr. freud, and we shall have a nice chat.

my life is consumed as of late. i suppose by the ordinary of getting through. but again, to what> and how now? perhaps the little moments of transcend, which are something i often have to coax my sense and senses into realizing, are all that life truly has to offer. i do not mean this glumly, not at all, those little moments come from everywhere and nowhere and are wonderful, but quiet. almost ordinarily so. i don't know quite what i mean. perhaps that the dazzlesparklewhirr isn't quite doing it for me anymore, yet in its true form i'd like it to, yet i know that i'm not capable or even very willing to chase it around anymore.

does anyone out there know of a sweat lodge that doesn't have a problem with strange random people just showing up? i am very much in need of one.

i think it's advertising
and/or the man
some kind of sunday blues
a never used to be
no aloneness please
help if you are human i need you
just the sight of a face will do
(and i hate that about me and about you)
so like gum on the sidewalk
must teach myself how to melt
only to become solid again
maybe at night when the world has cooled down.

hi yall. i have a summer cold, and it's the blues. hm. what else. i have not seen anyone from e-strip in weeks, since the courtyard bbq. and that's the blues too. maybe the food was horrendous, yes? and worse, the beer watered down?
alack, perhaps it is my lassitude rather than the quality of my victuals keeping me away from droogies. do not mistake lassitude for pococurance, however.

i took a personality quizzy quiz today, and it told me i was an evil genius. muah-hah-hah-haaaaaaaahhhhhh. watch out. i could be cookin up a plan at any moment. since i am poor at cookin up plans, and generally un-evil, i think the quiz was off a bit.

well, okay. this is a class D post but ay me. summertime in buffalo spells time slipping like liquid. slip. slop. slippety. slop. hey look, it's fall again. how morose of me. i duly apologize.

• holly*--my auntie just bought an old junker of a house so coincidentally, i participated in a house gutting just a few days ago, during which i stepped on an upturned nail with one foot, went to steady myself with the other, and stepped on a nail with that one too. ha! i guess that can happen figuratively as well during the 'gutted as a person' process. i think i'd like that process to happen to me. i have gone through it somewhat, but it happens so subtly and gradually that i can only see it when something new emerges. then it's like- hey, i guess that was in the works for a while. maybe that's not quite gutting then, because the actual house gutting was messy, dusty, dirty, exhausting, and more than a little violent. shit was flying everywhere. the front yard was overflowing with debris waiting to be whisked off to the dump. i think i need that variety. are you going through one?

well, to those of you out of town or otherwise engaged, you shall be sorely missed at blue heron if you aren't going, which i assume. i will party and dance small pieces of my butt off for you, and will think of you during my sixth or so bloody mary. mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. bloody marys.

it has occurred to me that getting a frickin cell phone has changed my life rather significantly. i can't think of a single thought i had today. why have thoughts when you can talk on the phone? talk talk talk, gabb, gab, chat, chit, and rat-a-tat-tat-t-dow. i really hate being on the phone. i really, rilly do. when i am not i simply sit, tho. and watch birds. eventually it prompts me to call someone. since my gramma does not work, i call her often.

where are you reepicheep?

so now i am having a beer, and dancin wit myseh-elf (oh oh) via a gift called writing. thoughts in the last five minutes:

pink is for minks.

work would be good, if you "earned" in a day what you "earned" in a week.

somewhere out there, a motorcycle has crashed.

now if i could somehow smush these three thoughts into a story, but oh, to do it plausibly. ohhhhh. woe. i am unbrilliant at present. help! i enjoy myself too often! candy at work is slowly becoming the highlight of my day. the pleasing green background of e-strip is like a delicious margarita, making me want to get a blender, stat.

three boobed woman, muselike, staring mystere at a skyscape seemingly bare, visit me. we shall meet in our dreams at the spider lounge, where you will be drinking a milky elixir made from unknown precious goat fluids and i shall be smoking a sorrel cigar as i approach you. and our discourse shall shake the time space continuum. if you please, and i will sacrifice to you a bottle of cold duck and five shoots of scallion and call on hermes to witness.

i never, except i am going to make mine non-sexual, which is much less fun. but there's a lot of new folks, and i'm shy. (phhfff) ;)

SO, in my life i have never:

1. taken a bath in anything other than water
2. eaten a snail
3. grown a third breast and/or nipple
4. actually seen an ocelot
5. been out of north america :(
6. heard the cry of the blue-footed booby
7. shorn a single living thing
8. witnessed a birth
9. waterskiied
10. attempted to grow a very large pumpkin

like flacidness, i too hope to experience all 10 things on his, oh i mean my, list someday.

i have been delinquent.

thanks to all for the uniqueness of your presence and presience at le bar-b-q. we, as in paulnotpaul and myself (trisha) had a fantabyulastic time... good thing tomorrow is sunday. the day of our lord jeebus, wherein i can pray for the sinner that is me.

to get the warm juicy feeling, i have been prompted by our luxe webmaster to post my knowledge of salts. which i actually learned from a magazine. the practicality of these uses may just melt all e-strippers' hearts-o'-ice after my long and derelictionous absence, which is regrettable and pathetique.

enough about me. you are soooo interesting:


rub salt in the cavity of a chick-in or turkydear to keep the bird moist (before cooking, duh) mmm. nothing worse than that dry bird.

add a pinch o'salt to cream or egg whites to make them whip up higher. nothing better than that high whip.

salt raw eggplant to draw out the excess moisture (and cut down on the oil absorbed during cooking-- nothing like saving dough on that precious olive oyl).

banish onion odor from your hands by rubbing them with salt and a splash of binegar. i'd so rather smell like binegar than onions. though i still hold fast to my theory that onions are momma nature's secretest vagina.

put a dash of salt in your vase with cut flowers--they'll stay fresh longer. hurray, less trips to mother nature florist. on elmwood.

clean sink drains by running a hot strong salt solution down them. no more odors, no more grease build up. bye bye dran-o. you expensive whore.

rub salt on your grill tools. it magically rids them of the black grease stuff that is carbonized lighter fluid, et al.

polish your fine brass or copper pieces with a paste made of equal parts salt, flour, and binegar. lay lady lay. lay across my big brass bed.

my personal fave, living in this podunk backweather berg: make a solution of 2 teaspoons salt in a gallon of water. spray it on your car windows, wipe it dry. frost will not build up inside them, saving precious minutes in your already late workaday morning time. which you could spend much better getting an egg mcmuffin of course.

there you go. everything you might want to know about the amazing salt of the earth (and a real good dancer) except how to mine it. oh, and there are special kinds of salt that do special things to special foods. but that may be a story for another day.