The Cookie Bastards
Removal costs said, in a statement:
You don’t need to survive.
Just existing would be enough.
—John Ashbery
how to work with
frustration and not
anger and headache,
not plural because i
don’t want them any
more, i rarely get them,
it’s a diabetic headache,
right? i’m not going to
tell you the reason i’m
buggin’ so, because that
would just make me a
comedian. just reiterate
the obvious, right? just
say right. hours later,
after t-mobile, after jay
leno, after checking out
the secret folder, after
not sending out one
single resume , , ,
well, i hadn’t eaten.
not only have i not
been setting foot
outside of my apart
ment, but when i
start scrounging
around, trying to
figure out what
there might poss
ibly be to eat here
in my little coffin
sized hotbox,
well, then what
do i do? i start
organizing. cans
here, bags there,
individual packets
over here, and there’s
even subcategories:
canned vegetables,
soups, sauces, etc.
the point is i’m a
diabetic now. the
point is i’m lazy.
the point is i was
having too much
fun sitting here
writing this,
talking to the
man, watching
the interview
with leno, the
half episode
of grace &
frankie and
the good fight
and kimmy
schmidt,
and, on imdb,
which has sucked
for years now, am i
right? same with the
tomatoes. success will
utterly fuck you! but,
still, on imdb, going thru
every single show – every
movie, every television movie
or series or special, every variety
show – that lorne michaels ever had
a hand in, from coneheads to the show
i’m now about to watch: season 1, episode
6 of the other two. scratch that, sidetracked,
first i’m finally going to zap one of my diabetic
dishes, the fresh frozen meals i get delivered for
free once a week, and then? then i’m going to sit down
and watch the thirteenth episode of orville, that’s still
season 1, or so it says right here. nothing fancy.
i mean. i suppose what i could be saying here
is that the point is there is no point.
and yeah, that’s what i just said.
with my stubby, heavy-jointed
fingers, from me to you.
come back again
tomorrow,
woncha?
;-)
Removal costs said, in a statement:
You don’t need to survive.
Just existing would be enough.
—John Ashbery
how to work with
frustration and not
anger and headache,
not plural because i
don’t want them any
more, i rarely get them,
it’s a diabetic headache,
right? i’m not going to
tell you the reason i’m
buggin’ so, because that
would just make me a
comedian. just reiterate
the obvious, right? just
say right. hours later,
after t-mobile, after jay
leno, after checking out
the secret folder, after
not sending out one
single resume , , ,
well, i hadn’t eaten.
not only have i not
been setting foot
outside of my apart
ment, but when i
start scrounging
around, trying to
figure out what
there might poss
ibly be to eat here
in my little coffin
sized hotbox,
well, then what
do i do? i start
organizing. cans
here, bags there,
individual packets
over here, and there’s
even subcategories:
canned vegetables,
soups, sauces, etc.
the point is i’m a
diabetic now. the
point is i’m lazy.
the point is i was
having too much
fun sitting here
writing this,
talking to the
man, watching
the interview
with leno, the
half episode
of grace &
frankie and
the good fight
and kimmy
schmidt,
and, on imdb,
which has sucked
for years now, am i
right? same with the
tomatoes. success will
utterly fuck you! but,
still, on imdb, going thru
every single show – every
movie, every television movie
or series or special, every variety
show – that lorne michaels ever had
a hand in, from coneheads to the show
i’m now about to watch: season 1, episode
6 of the other two. scratch that, sidetracked,
first i’m finally going to zap one of my diabetic
dishes, the fresh frozen meals i get delivered for
free once a week, and then? then i’m going to sit down
and watch the thirteenth episode of orville, that’s still
season 1, or so it says right here. nothing fancy.
i mean. i suppose what i could be saying here
is that the point is there is no point.
and yeah, that’s what i just said.
with my stubby, heavy-jointed
fingers, from me to you.
come back again
tomorrow,
woncha?
;-)
