Seven Deadly Sins Haven't Killed Me Yet
Personal
Terlene Had Her Baby
Aug 19th
I failed to mention that Terlene had her baby back in February. She’s pregnant again. That poor girl doesn’t know when to stop. She did get her sexual education under the Bush Administration. Oh well. She had a coupon for a family portrait. She bought Trolanda a new outfit with her Powerball winnings. Little Travis isn’t growin’. He’ll have growth spurt one of these days.
Random Rumblings
Jul 31st
I envy those souls who can sit behind a computer and continually post. I’m an expert in sitting. That’s about it.
What have I learned since my last posting?
- I want to change my name to Felix Pickles.
- I enjoy Steven Moffat’s interpretation of Sherlock Holmes.
- The movie Soapdish is a favorite film.
- As is Black Narcissus. Barnes and Noble still has the 50% off sale for Criterion DVDs. There is a new release and remaster of Black Narcissus.
- I require a brain transplant. This body is tedious.
- I dealt with cat piss.
- I dreamed of Galliano and how Genet looked in prison.
- Too much Liberace and Cabaret Voltaire invade my ears.
- And we need to take back America. Well, take back America with a healthy dose of Xanax.
Filling in the Blanks
Jul 10th
Since I am not mathematically inclined, I do not know the longest duration of silence between posts. Absence is frequent these days.
This was a hell week that needed a Z-pack and horizontal was easier. Cough. Cough. There is nothing worse than being sick in summer heat. Bully for air-conditioning! Speaking of heat, where are all the climate change deniers bitching about the heat? Oh. Sorry. It’s only relevant in the winter. Bully for seasonal political gain!
While horizontal, I occupied myself with way too much television. I finally boarded the “True Blood” Express and watched all available “Mad Men.” Though both shows are different, they are a lively distraction when hacking up a lung or two. Bully for narcotic cough syrup!
Since thoughts are still a haze, I offer a Cioran quote:
I had decided never again to shake hands with anyone healthy. Yet I had to compromise, for I soon discovered that many of those I suspected of well-being were less subject to it than I had supposed. What was the use of making enemies on the basis of mere suspicions?
And a pretty photo.
Dovima in Balenciaga, 1940s, photo by Richard Avedon
Random Thoughts
Jun 8th
As is obvious, I neglect this place. There isn’t enough whisky to make me give a shit. Everyone has an endless opinion about whatever. Float from site to site and it usually involves dissent. It is always easier to be pissy or enraged with the OED handy.
I declare myself Pro-Life. I accept the continual birth of peas and lemons. HA!
Limoncello and lemon curd are in my future as is a buttery sauté of peas and prosciutto. I am patient for a few things. I would love to be in Parma or Guilia to brand salted flesh. I gladly await curing.
Babble, Babble, Toil and Lobotomy Needles
May 28th
I go about my days the best I can like everyone else. I make sure my offspring (kittens, as birthing ain’t my thing) are fed and myself. There are always those off moments where I do not understand the circumstances and it leads to distress. Contemplation emerges with endless staring into space for no reason. All appears blank, but there are minute characters where I concentrate to discern. (I probably need new glasses.) A few make sense, then the rest is absent or a blur.
It is like staring at a painting for guidance. No matter how hard I try it isn’t there. Yes, I can discern motive and influence, but there is always something lacking. If I try too hard for the details and nitpick existence then the totality disintegrates. I am more than capable of numbing existence, but that lacks the necessary understanding and defeats the purpose. Best to feel, however harsh. Bully for those who choose that path.
I float through my days and it is all a blur. I dreamed once of opening a chain of lobotomy clinics. Perhaps mere existence and feeling are the lobotomy. Humanity died ages ago.
I often say I am a creature of contradictions. Despite the blur of existence (or lack of) I am not a righteous being who finds every flaw to dissect for the surgery theater. Analysis of the subtleties may increase momentary awareness, but they are forgotten in the totality.
Babble, babble. As is my wont and my site. HA!
Since Facebook Has “Privacy” Issues, Let’s Share In a Blog Post
May 26th
I should deactivate Facebook because I share too much. Wait! My garden, kitten, and food porn photos are gonna haunt me. What will I do? My clematis blooms and my new kitten,Mr. Daniel spreads his legs for a catnip fix. Oh no, it is beyond my control.
Facebook may gather information, but we all share even more in RSS feeds with a blog post. With Sitemeter and other mechanisms, I know your operating system, IP, and other important keywords. Huzzah for the monkey rocker, vicodin, and Alexis fur hats. I love that such searches bring you to Petulant Rumblings. It makes me giggle.
Facebook is evil. But, let me share my kittens or dogs and every facet of my existence. Pish-posh!
If you write about your life in any detail, Facebook isn’t your enemy. If you cared about privacy, you wouldn’t share a damn thing anywhere. Spare me your “I AM DELETING FACEBOOK CRIES!”
Everyone is narcissistic whether they want to admit it. Too many hide behind their manufactured privilege. Guilt is easier. Deletion and criticism make you feel better. I love that feeling also. I also know when to retreat.
When I was wee lad, an amazing teacher gave me a copy of the Riverside Shakespeare. I didn’t have to buy it for college. Lucky me.
She also taught me that masturbatory fantasies failed in writing. They always do. I didn’t share on Facebook. Now I did. Please don’t hurt me. OMG! What will I do because I shared the information? I am sharing too much information and lack privacy controls.
It is beyond my control. HA!
Things I Forget I Have: Extended Play 45s
May 10th
I am Spring cleaning. Hopefully I will finish before Spring ends. I try to stay in one room, but eventually I wander to another. I stare at the mess there, pick up a few things, then return to the previous room. Scrub. Wander. Sit down. Smoke a cigarette. Stare into oblivion. Resume. Repeat.
I ventured to a bottom shelf that had some old vinyl; most hides away in a closet. The vinyl on that shelf are from my early days: Christian Death, Cocteau Twins, Bauhaus, Swans, Current 93, Coil, Death in June, etc. You get the gist. It’s teen nostalgia. I still listen to those artists on occasion, but everything is digital.
Tucked away at the end were some lovely extended play 45s from I guess the 50s or 60s. Tiny records are cute. There was a double ep 45 of the classic Jackie Gleason album, Music for Lovers, and lots of Duke Ellington. This Duke Ellington is my favorite on red vinyl. Colored vinyl is so much fun. Since I possess the memory of a flea, I have no clue where or when I bought them. A thrift store is a safe assumption.
The EP contains Jam-A-Ditty, Sultry Sunset, Magenta Haze, and Golden Feather. FUN!
If only I had a working turntable.
Thankfully, there is YouTube.
I might do more posts when I stumble upon something I forget I have. (I always search for a new direction on this pitiful site.) I rarely get rid of anything unless I am drunk and give things away to friends who would enjoy the item more. Now I gave away the means for me to part with belongings. Oh well.
National Masturbation Day
May 6th
I like firm dates for holidays. Today was another National Masturbation Day. Or maybe tomorrow. Or maybe May 28th. Or maybe the whole damn month of May. I said on Facebook:
I failed to celebrate an Atheist proclaimed National Masturbation Day today instead of praying. I’ll manage to celebrate one way or another. HA! There are no festive decorations for this holiday. A cock ring doesn’t count, unless it is bejeweled and has fairy lights. I’m not privileged enough for such things. I am crafty. I am sure there is a battery pack around here somewhere.
I will be strong and manage what is necessary to celebrate. I’ll look at Rudy. I am sure something will arise. 
When Global Economies Crash…
May 6th
…do not gaze upon dwindling stock markets or riot in the streets. Take a deep breath, find your best Scarlett-inspired ensemble, plant some turnips and prepare for the worst. Humans always survive and adapt,
preferably with a bouncy tune. HA!
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