Sitting Chair Experiment

"Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a

damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily

pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every

funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand

of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from

deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking

people's hats off-then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as

I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship. There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me"- Melville



........



Ready-For-That-Shit,

One, two, three, four, words. Fuck. Went over into two messages. Never gonna see that dime again. I dully look over the text on

the tiny screen to see if there is any unnecessary punctuation that

could be edited out in order tighten it down to one. Fuck it, so not

in the mood. The send button is my two sided sword.



I have the tendency

to burn entire townships rather than bridges. Worthless. I was

thinking about Africa and commercial fishing boats again. Why? Why

not? My problem is a lack of plan. I've never been a fan of plans or

trying and, logically, trying to make plans. I am surrounded all day

people who waste time making plans. You know what the single inevitable

consequence in making plans is? Someone is going to come along and

fuck it up. And why does this happen? Malice? Jealousy? Vengeance

perhaps? If only, friend, if only. You wanna know why other people

will always fuck up your plan? Because they are fucking stupid and

are rushing about seeing to their own poorly hashed out plan. That's

what our America is, a bunch of self important simpletons bumping

into each other's plans.



Oh, I'm

sorry.



No, No,

my fault completely.



No,

really.



Stutter

to the left, then to the right,



then to

the left again with your



cowed

reflection politely



trying

not to run into each other.



I'm

sorry.



No, go

ahead.



No,

really, please.



And so

on.



Stupid.



Not that

I'm recusing myself from the stupid. Your beloved Francaise Joaquin

Oleander Trident Esq. considers himself amongst the upper echelon of

the stupid.



However,

here's what I pride myself on; I don't make plans that are bound to

be fouled up by some other poor soul running around trying to

accomplish something equally trivial.



Bumper

cars when you



waited

in line for



go

karts.



All day.

Everyday. Catatonic people driving around wearing sunglasses in an

effort to make themselves more desirable to other stupid people. Or

to protect themselves from harmful UV rays.



Because

this is what you need to be worried about, UV rays. Here are some

other things you should concern yourself with; second hand smoke,

moss, poorly engineered civil infrastructures, sexually transmitted

diseases, black ice, terrorism, gays, sticky stuff on theater floors, television, clashing clothes,

daily caloric intake, early onset dementia, high decibel levels,

minorities, lack of muscle definition, poison oak war, genitalia piercing

mishaps, miles per gallon, proper identification pollution, ring sizes, mismatched socks, the price of

petrol, floral arrangements, proper interior design, taxes,

appropriate amount of plies in toilet tissue, exploding ink pens, cable going out,

wintery mixes, backup sunglasses, bad seats, jeans cuffed or

uncuffed, hemorrhoids, rap music, parking tickets, washer/dryer settings,

deities, charity, cavities, soon to expire coupons, dust storms, soon to expire relatives, stains, cold coffee, warm beer, chipped

fingernails, poor complexion, Crohn's disease, noise ordinances,vacation destinations,

recreation, profanity, excessive body hair, overwhelming cologne, bears,

calcium deficiencies, side dishes, Church, neighbors across the street, squeaking

brakes, salvation, left handed margins, walking alone in a poorly lit

area, cancer.



Then

after a long day of planning things and avoiding things, and planning

to avoid things, you come home and run yourself a warm shower (you've

earned it big guy) and you slip while trying to cleanse the furthest

extent of your own asshole, hit your head and spend the few remaining

years of your life drooling while some begrudging family member

cleans your own asshole for you.



So

Africa is riddled with poverty and aids. At least when I whine I'll

have good goddamn reason.



Hello.



This is America Speaking.