that asshole Dave Winer

Google Search: "that asshole Dave Winer"

This is a test post to increase the count on google for the phrase "that asshole Dave Winer".

Had it been a real post it would have had some more interesting theme to it. A sort of a 'linguistic meat' one could attach one's brain to amuse oneself with the blood flow of one's molecules (or whateverthefuck flows in there anyway).

Thank you. As you were. Go on. Move about. Click on something now.

Narcissism. The best thing since the sliced bread.

"this is narcissism. and it's becoming quite popular, thanks to the ubiquity of New Age rationalizations that pretty much add up to: you can be what you want to be. on cloud 9. when the Temptations sang that, it was about heroin. and it's still about addiction, but to something far darker that hides in plain daylight. psychic vampirism. you won't believe it's real until it gets right up in your face one fine blue day. hope really hard that it never does"

Narcissism. The best thing since the sliced bread. Order one or two for your family. Just in time for Xmas my dear.

Street Fighting Man

Stand on the Shoulder of Giants? Slaugher The Giants! The Carnival!

Hey! said my name is called disturbance
I’ll shout and scream, I’ll kill the king, I’ll rail at all his servants
Well, what can a poor boy do
Except to sing for a rock ’n’ roll band
’cause in sleepy london town
There’s no place for a street fighting man
No

On the shoulders

We don't stand on the shoulders of giants. We slaugher them. We burn them. We dance on their skulls. We suck the bone marrow and feed off them and grow ourselves to be giants - some day to be slaughered by future generations. The Carnival of Humanity. Bring your fire. Burn down the Pleasantville. Use your Voice before you turn into ashes and dust. Pooooofff!

The magic of a word - blog

Fishrush :: A Postbloggerist's Pronunciamento: "The magic of a word - blog - which for journalists and non-journalists alike has opened the door to an unforeseen world, has for us not the slightest importance. "

Less Bullshit! More Peekaboo!

Fishrush :: Welcome!

Fishrush :: Welcome!: "Since I first entered the public blog roll lists, a very young man indeed, it has been my constant fortune to number amongst my nearest and dearest friends members of the blogging world who have been its grace and pride. They have so dropped from my side one by one that I already, begin to feel like the Spanish monk of whom a few Wikis tell, who had grown to believe that the only realities around him were the pictures which previously loved; that all the moving life witnessed, or ever had seen, was a shadow and a dream."

Fishrush :: System Error Found

Fishrush :: System Error Found: "HTTP 419 - File not properly blogged because blogger didn't remember to blog correctly "

Fishrush :: Vision

Fishrush :: Vision: "We are truly not even average, yet from time-to-time we stumble upon truth as a drunk stumbles into a garbage can, but run from it because it frightens us as the dog frightens the cat. "

Cool. I am so happy!

Asshole Exchange Classified Ads

URGENT: Will exchange an asshole husband for a romantic man who will tell me that I make him happy. Looks not important. Me- starved for attention. Willing to make you happy. Just don't turn into another asshole. Ask for Dorothy when you call.

Bada Bing.

DIY Asshole

Certificate of Upgrade
to
Complete Asshole

is awarded to



____________________________________


In recognition of your obnoxious attitude, ability to piss people off, complete asinine juvenile behavior and total dedication to personal gain without regard to the many hardships you have forced upon friends, family and other during your lifetime, you have become a legend in your own mind.

To recognize your upgrade from half-assed to complete asshole, gives all concerned great satisfaction. If anyone, for any reason, doubts your status,

JUST BE YOURSELF!


____________________ ____________________ ____________________
Effective Date Signed

Last Things

Q: What's the last thing that goes through a bug's mind when it hits your windshield at 65mph?

A: Its asshole.

Which Happy Bunny Are You?

Congratulations. You are the "kiss my asshole" happy bunny.

You don't care about anyone or anything.
You must be so proud!


which happy bunny are you?

joining our assholes together as one...

so I notice over on the right sidebar there---yeh, right over there---> that you can now change the date and time of your posts to "future post" your writing, blasting pixels through the space/time continuum landing smack dab on new year's eve 2005 (i.e., the last day of 2004).

HOLY SHIT I says to myself, I says.

I think that this makes perfect sense. We must all now begin writing backwards toward one another. We start on the eve of 2005 and write our way back to the present, where we will join ourselves, one another, and perhaps even one another's assholes, since moving through the time/space continuum requires much velocity. Or so I hear.

So fuckit. Skip this new years eve and write your way a year past that, then make a u-turn, and write your asshole right back here.

last one to do a loopty loop is a rotten egg.

Growing Up In Amerika

Essence

Telegraph Road

"But believe in me baby and I’ll take you away
From out of this darkness and into the day
From these rivers of headlights these rivers of rain
From the anger that lives on the streets with these names
’cos I’ve run every red light on memory lane
I’ve seen desperation explode into flames
And I don’t want to see it again. . .

from all of these signs saying sorry but we’re closed
All the way down the telegraph road"


Dire Straits
Lyrics - (Telegraph Road Lyrics)

On Every Street

"Somewhere your fingerprints remain concrete
And it’s your face I’m looking for on every street"

Dire Straits Lyrics - (On Every Street Lyrics)

On Every Street Baby!

Loss Of Images

(found via wood s lot) On "The Loss of Images, or Through the Sierra de Gredos": "Handke's retrospective utopia is about loss, however, and the purpose of the journey that this novel describes is not to avert loss, but to make it felt" (...)

"Ordinarily, I start with myself and my own headaches; in the course of my writing, I detach myself from them more and more, and then in the end I ship myself and my headaches off to market as a commodity"

read more on Handke

I touched it

I didn't think people were so ready to admit that they touched it, too. I touched mine and it didn't work either. but I already knew that.

that's why women feel so safe with me.

kids, boyz, and blogbrothers.

marek and ken
drinking in a tree
f-a-l-l-i-n-g

first comes blog
then comes booze
then comes marek taking a snooze.

suckin his thumb
wettin his drawers
shopping at them online girly stores.

Jeneane PR work works

Jeneane, I never coupled with a hard candy wrapper. These are unsubstantiated allegations about my having sex with a candy wrapper, however I will take warm pussy anytime. And I have to go and drink with Ken. He just keeps raising those toasts and don't forget to toss those lotto stubs.

jacket blurbs for the other ones

for RB

"His journeys into the finer adult video stores, online porn sites, and his penchant for vintage Barbies, coupled with his background in obstetrics and gynocology, uniquely qualify him to bring the benefit of gummy bears to the forefront of our lives today."

and for marek:

"His journeys into the remote suburbs of Dallas, Polish delicatessens, and his obsession with licking other people's temples, coupled with his background in hard candy, uniquely qualify him to bring the benefit of long-lost lotto ticket stubs to the forefront of our lives today."

Band of Brothers

To you, my brothers, a toast...

Raise your glass to sex, to sweat, to heavy breathing and laughter, to biting, to arched backs and hair. Raise your glass to handcuffs and ice and an open window. To christmas lights, to no lights. To being so good at multitasking. To falling asleep and waking up and going at it again. And again. To not stopping for more than a few minutes to catch your breath. Raise your glass the saying "if there's a will then there's a way."

Drink to that! And when your done with your drink let's go at it again.

Long lost traditions

RB points us to that asshole Gregg Braden where I find this famouse line. "His journeys into the remote mountain villages, monasteries, and temples of times past, coupled with his background in the hard sciences, uniquely qualify him to bring the benefit of long-lost traditions to the forefront of our lives today" - It is perfect, no? A whiff of mysticism, don't you wish to be that person? Don't you wish to go to those mountain villages? those temples of times past? - A sentence to cause everlasting spiritual orgasm. (YES, thank you, having one right now).

And isn't it an opiate phrase to say "long-lost traditions". Yes, that's the one. Feeling mellow now. Going under. Take all my money. I want all your books.

I hate this thing about RB that he just fucks with my head by pointing to this bullshit. But this bullshit is shaping my community. Fuck. We are so fucked.

sky fell down on her Twin Henhouses

all noise - all the time: "'Ah, but who will take my meaning,' said Chicken Little as the sky fell down on her Twin Henhouses. 'Not me,' said The Association for Humanistic Psychology, which mailed me Gregg's amazing brochure. 'Not me,' said The Association for Transpersonal Psychology, listed on the flyer as 'in cooperation with' -- where for cooperation read cahoots. 'Not me,' said The Saybrook Graduate School & Research Center (formerly The Humanistic Psychology Institute, a.k.a. Esalen II), which also endorses Braden's barbarous brand of barely intelligible bio-spiritual bullshit. A free sample, you say? Sure, why not"

God Code Q&A with RB

On God Code and other things...: "Me, I don't think, you know, like, Science Is The Answer. But neither do I think that Spiritual Snake Oil Is The Answer. Both are epistemologically bankrupt stabs in the dark at a body of knowledge we all know was done in long ago, not by Nietzsche as some suppose, but -- get a clue! -- by the butler in the library with the lead pipe. My personal beliefs have not wavered from the credo that supported so many of us through the ominous onomatopoetry of the ontologically omnivorous '60s:

Acid Is The Answer! ...uh... What Was The Question?

more...On God Code and other things...

I told you...

Jeneane did it

Does the damn thing work?
No. It never did. I didn't touch it and even if I did it wasn't working anyway and fuck off cause I am not going to repeat myself that this shit didn't work, ever fucking ever, you hear? You Hear you fucker. It never worked and I don't give a fuck if you asked me if I touched it or not. 'twas broken before I got there.

Actually it was Ken. Yeah, He touched it before me. It didn't work either. So when I touched it I fucking knew already it didn't work so ask Ken, you fucker!

And then Jeneane touched it too. She knew it didn't fucking work either but she touched it anyway, just to see how fucking broken it really was. So we all touched it but it never worked, ok? now fuck off.

Marek did it.

does the damn thing work?

No.

Did it ever work?

Yes.

Did you touch it last?

Who, me?

Are you who I think you are?

No.

Does the damn thing work?

No.

Did you touch it?

Yes.

Did you break it?

Mom? Is that you? I put the feather pillows on the floor and poured water on them so they'd make a neat squishy sound when I jumped off your big bed into the middle of them.

You ruined them.

Yes.

Go to your room.

okay.