The Stoner Chronicles

March 15, 2004

I broke the lady planter today. I'm sure none of you know what the fuck i'm talking about, and usually that makes me feel good inside but for some reason I sense an explination coming on...

There's this planter in my bathroom, it's the head of a 50's housewife, the kind of planter, that if I was, in fact a poet, I would have wrote something about it by now. She had blonde short curly hair, and she had her own necklace apart from the ceramic head, they might have been real pearls but I hope not because I threw them out, I guess I'd feel like a real tool If I threw away pearls but anyway she was fucking gorgeous. The kind of housewife you'd imagine fucking up the ass or something, you know, something real raunchy. She was just a ceramic head and she contained a plant that my mother got from my aunt (who isn't really my aunt, but just a close friend of my mother's) when she had her gall bladder removed 20 years ago. The plant was 20 years old, and the Lady planter was at least 50 years old. After I knocked over the lady planter in the bathroom, I immediately rinsed off my hair, and took the shattered pieces of her hot face from the bottom of the tub, her right cheek rinsed down the drain, and I cried for a few crazy minutes, because I wanted to be like this planter lady, and I wanted to fuck her too, which is weird, wanting to fuck a plant pot, but I guess you'll never know how hot she actually was because you don't know me, and I broke her this morning. I called my mother first, and she was upset, and then she told my grandma, and she became immediately distressed as well over this ceramic head, and I called my sister, who is a poet, and she was absolutely distraught over it as well. My other sister is deathly afraid of it, and used to have to turn it around, with the head facing the windowsill everytime she took a shower. She has, at the present moment, not been informed of the incident.

March 11, 2004

If this was on the FAQ from a website for cheap magazine subscriptions, would you give this company your credit card number?:


"Q. WE WANT TO SEND MAGAZINES TO A FRIEND WHO IS INCARCERATED, THERE ARE NOT ENOUGH SPACES TO INCLUDE HIS NUMBER AFTER HIS NAME.
A. Please put his number on the first address line, we are limited by the fulfillment house to the characters per line. 21"



I think i might, 5.95 for Newsweek, you just can't go wrong.

March 04, 2004

My dog hates black people and puerto ricans. It's embarrasing as hell when you're walking in a park, and become suddenly besieged by two teenagers with Good Charolette t-shirts, to your dog's delight. Somewhere down the line an older professional looking African American woman stops to ask what kind of dog he is, and your crazy ass dog you should have named chainsaw tries to tear her pantyhose off. Does anyone else have this problem? When I was sitting my unemployed ass on my comfy chair watching TNN, there was a Law and Order where some guy's poodle was a racist, and that kind of made me laugh and be thankful at the same time.

Whenever I think of Sci-Fi novels, I think of big breasted muscular women with lasers, I don't think of Bradbury or Pratt, I have to wonder if we should break that category into a few more options.


Do do do do do-doo, whoaaa, I can't help but think about that Annie Lennox song whenever i'm standing in the supermarket line, and I have not the slightest clue what provokes it. Or sometimes it's when i'm at a red light, and the people start walking across the street a certain way, and that fucking...Do do do do doo doo, whooaaa, or when I'm watching someone eat, especially, depending on how they put the fork in their mouth. It's a fucking plague.

March 03, 2004

Why does the close door sound on aol sound like a fucking gun shot, the volume on the computer is on so loud, that I just dumped my cheerios all over my shirt when someone signed off.

It's been well over a month since I stopped going to work, and I have absolutely no motivation whatsoever to find myself a new job. I have a serious case of the flu, but am still...wait a second, why do white people have to go on vacation every chance they get? Why don't they just buy mansions, and be on vacation all year? Why spend 20, 30, 40 years in middle america with nothing but cheap socks to show for it? This, as my grandmother would say, is how the rich get richer.

There are approximately 5 things rotting in Birdman's room right now. We haven't had sex in 2 weeks, but it doesn't feel like it. Does anyone know how to cure a cold sore with homemade remedies?

Lately I have been thinking about becoming a construction worker. I don't know how long it would take me to walk a mile, and i'm not willing to find out unless I got one of those things that count how much you walk, because then it would be more of like a science experiment than exercise, and science is fun.

How did I get to be so fat, by the way? It doesn't really bother me, i'm not sitting in the middle of a room full of mirrors with a blindfold on killing chickens or anything, I just don't know why I have to stop eating. I like eating.

This head cold is really getting to me, I hope it's nothing serious, unless I had insurance, in which case, as John Kerry would say,

bring it...