October 30, 2001

ode to john locke

I found my phone card. It was behind my printer, under my bed… laughing.

Today’s challenge: Finish an entire buttered popcorn sucker without vomiting.


Doug came home with an air freshener for the bathroom. It claimed it was ‘scentless’, but of course that was a lie. It smells like air freshener. Doug said I should be happy he didn’t pick up ‘fresh-cut flowers’ or some equally wussy smell. But this got us thinking: why don’t they make manly air fresheners? Why is it assumed that everyone wants to fill their nostrils with country garden, or floral mist or peach-cranberry-creme surprise? We guys want guy scents.

“Mask offensive odors with our new collection of air defresheners! Choose from motor oil, mesquite barbeque, or pound-of-beef. Coming soon: morning woodchips and diesel fumes.”


I finished the sucker, but now the room keeps spinning. I need to lie down.

Hmm. I just scanned in my Emergency Department Record and I noticed a box that thankfully was not marked as one of my afflictions. It read ‘vomiting diarrhea’. It would take one hell of a screwed up digestive system to allow that condition. I really hope it doesn’t result from buttered popcorn suckers.

After listening to two punk cds and getting my blood all hot and roiled, it is time that a big “fuck you” go out to John Locke. The way this guy writes, I can carefully read the same sentence four times in a row and still have no idea what the hell he is talking about. I am not stupid, but Locke makes me feel like I’m towing the line. It’s like someone is jabbing their thumbs in my brain.

You may notice the fragmented nature of Blithers lately, most entries consisting of half-baked, partial thoughts that jump around more than a surly gang of kangaroos on a hypnotist’s Jell-O trampoline. As soon as I collect myself enough to compose full thoughts again, we will return to the regularly scheduled program.

Until then, please be mindful of the vernacular spoken by the thirteen porcelain cherubs. Their Jamaican Jiffy-Popper is not quite up to par with common household detergents, and requires much effort in priming. Planned alterations to local infrastructure will be implemented in a timely manner, granted that the overseer does not fall ill with blindness and scurvy. We need limes, people. Limes.