Loganthinks

SO WHINY


thanks senor catgadge

with each drink

things got worse

while no one's fault

we walked up one dead end after another



with each drink perhaps there is more desperation to reach agreement on something
to feel a consensus
to feel like something is ok
because lord knows when the lights go out and we go home
nothing is ok



goodnight, good logan
lets hope tommorow brings better things

Jesus H Christ

you know... i don't really have much at the moment

but I can't have that incoherent nonsense from the from the last post be what greets the visitor (paul) when he decides to see whats new with logan's webpage

it looks like i got pretty worked up over that "spam robot challenge"

but hey

that'll happen...

that will happen.




so as the deftones say
here's my new address

first days at the flophouse known as jenn's

this house sprouts boxes, old clothes, and garbage like little cancers
benign
because it still manages to be civil
if you clean the major arteries
make it accessible
like new york city

fuck damn

logan is incredible

sleeping on her back by the door, twisted halfway around like fluffy bread
she suddenly moves, opens her eyes
and cocks her head around, kind of like the girl in the exorcist
just as i finish blowing my nose into a piece of toilet paper

it's like 1 in the morningright now.
i watch her, still caught in that impossible sculpture
eyes firmly fixed on my tissue as i put this tissue on the dining room table

to her
behind her eyes i'm sure
an olive garden commercial is running

so i go back to typing and boom

shes at the table, but she knows i'm watching so she pretends to just be cool with being NEAR the table
like
late at night, when the people aren't around
tables are the place to be

however
many minutes pass, and as people tend to do when they are firmly entrenched in something meaningless at the computer, i have been frozen in my hunched position for long enough to fool any casual obversving dogs into thinking i am part of the furniture... inanimate, save for my hands,
tapping automatically,
but no more alive than the dripping of the faucet or the click-click of the downstairs window air conditioner.

out of the corner of my eye, logan's form, (mostly obscured from view by the edge of the table) seems to rise suddenly

it is like godzilla coming out of the water

she is a 40 pound dog, which puts her at about three feet long and a foot and a half high... the table is high, maybe 3 feet

she is fully extended, first her paws and nose, then her head, and then her whole upper body, moving above the blue tablecloth-horizon like a panting, wicked, furry moon.

but like stretch armstrong, like LANCE armstrong...she does not stop

she must be double jointed
a dog-incarnate of the fat kid everone had in middleschool who could do that bullshit with his knuckles

she is fully perched, HALF way ontop of the table, somehow now taller and longer than would seem physically possible, and she is pawing, perhaps like a primate fist learning to utilize its limbs... SEARCHING through the jumbled mess of magazines and stationary for that piece of tissue paper with my snot on it.

a dog with what must be a slinky for a body searches for a good 45 seconds, logically eliminating one section of the table after another, nose and paws working at fever pitch atop her fully extended frame

a weird scene creeps into into mind as i finally watch her dig my kleenex out from beneath the fondue pot

it comes when she just manages to get hold of it, arcing her head back victoriously and swinging her wild gaze and tissue-filled grin over towards me to brag...

she is the monkey that first discovers to use the bone as a weapon in the introduction to 2001: a space oddesey

i can hear the music as she retracts her go-go-gadget-torso and sneaks under the table to devour my kleenex.



and yea, i dont know how to fucking spell "oddessey"


so having said that

i was reading somethingawful the other day, and i was completlely engrossed by an atricle in which a member of the forum (just someone i guess who'se a registered member of the site) writes the editors (who are only in their teens, and pretty much spend thier lives making fun of the terrible fetishes and convoluted subcultures created by the urban-sprawl of the internet) from his army batallion in Iraq.

now the main editor is a smart guy. he's against the war, realizes bush is a fucktard, and has written much to further this opinion whilst remaining funny, topical, and convincing.
but he is faced with the same sitaution most of us are faced with, being americans today - he knows people who are fighting, and some losing limbs, heads, etc... in the armed services overseas.

and he's classy. he posts the whole letter one of his members wrote to him, posts the pictures the guy sent along, and basically says afterwards that regardless of your feelings on the war, or on the powers that got it started in the first place, these kids are over there and you are not. Root for you own, and be a patriot by wishing them safety and by doing your best to get them back home alive.

what did have i done for them? nothing

what has he done? he's raised 20,000 dollars for the unit his freinds were in to purchase them effective body armor (the kind that stop 7.62 rounds used in assault rifles). apparently the army had a shortage and sent an bunch of soldiers and marines overseas without them. much of the letter from the kid in iraq goes towards explaining how needed those pieces of armor were, and how lucky, comparatively, he felt to have gotten them.

so yea, good for them.

anyways, finally, the roundabout BS reason i brought THIS whole somethingawful.com thing up was that - after reading this article and feeling good about humanity, i moved on to the last section of the day's post, which is always the "awful link of the day" post.

that day's awful link of the day was a page dedicated to some great american housewife who'd decided to use her 3rd-grade level photshopping skills to make a webpage showing pictures of her two ugly-assed basset hounds spliced into patriotic murials.
there they were, in all their glory.
at the twin towers, with the firemen.
superimposed of the american flag, partially obscuring the tailfeathers of a majestic eagle.

and after reading all that sad but somehow uplifting stuff about the iraq kids, things came full cirlce to the patriotic basset hounds.

as does this rediculously stupid post

because as much as i wrote earlier about logan being superdog

i cannot fucking STAND people who do this shit with their animals. I can't stand people who have those suburban "photopaintings" of thier cats on their fuckign walls.

i cant stand people who write wacky fiction about their pets getting into wild adventures.

i can't stand people who write online diaraies pretending to be their cat

and i cannot fucking stand this woman's patriotic basset hounds

i won't try and call out all the offenders here
i wont rant about how tacky and rediclous and uncreative and INFURIATING this is

i will just be a hypocrite trying to defend himself just a little and say

that logan gets some airtime on this page beacuse she is ugly
full of tangles
full of dreadlocks, gritty teeth, bad breath, and and ass that really smells like ass
and she is awesome because of this
and because she is 100% ready every day regardless of this
and because she is like a fucking velociraptor when it comes to hunting down stray kleenexes

so come with me
ugly dog
and see the world
lets go to california