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June 13, 2005
more fundamentalist surrealism
Ok, maybe I have way too much time on my hands.
This morning I give you yet another rantish, what-is-this-world-coming to type of entry. Forgive me.
Through a series of links, beginning with Rob's Big Monkey, Helpy Chalk blog, I found my way another blog, that of an unfortunate young man named Zack.He is young, gay, and in Memphis.
(Run away, Zack. Run fast, run far, run North!!!)
Zack came across these rules for the creepy christian re-education camp he is being sent to, and one of them was as follows:
"Fresh undergarments are to be worn at all times." Words to live by. (ok maybe fundamentalists aren't wrong about everything) But they better not be Calvin Klein. Believe it!
Oh, I wish I could adopt the little guy. He could come to Chicago, we would put on tank tops and go walking on Halsted Street with Marcel (a gay name for an insufficiently macho little dog, and a corrupting influence if there ever was one). We'd march with some Bears in the Pride Parade alongside the ACLU! I would take him shopping in the depths of depravity at Abercrombie and Fitch.
Lord, have mercy, how butch I will be! I would absolutely never shave my pits and plus I would wear a sports bra when I wasn't even working out (also forbidden)!
Maybe I would even...teach Zack to knit if he were so inclined..
(see how cleverly I work in knitting content?)
Anyway, last night I had a crazy dream that has lingered into this morning. In it I worked in an office doing something, its hard to say what. It was like I had all the anxiety of having a job but no actual work. So I was sitting at this desk which was empty except for a telephone, some cables that went nowhere, and a bunch of unfinished knitting projects. Plus my phone kept ringing and it was my boss calling from across the hall, a young man who mumbled and whispered vague instructions into the phone. I would try to hear him and I would promise to have everything done ASAP, then hang up and not know what it was I promised to do. So I addressed some envelopes and shuffled the cables around and pretended I was busy. Not so weird as dreams go but it stays in my head.
I really ought to draw but the weather is so sticky and not conducive.
And plus, lest I should get through one entry without him, ladies and gentlemen, give a warm Knit-A-Log welcome to our very own~
Marcel Duchamp! (the crowd goes wild!)
In a playful romp!
He totally hates to be left out.
Believe it.
the end.
Posted by pippypippy at June 13, 2005 09:57 AM
Comments
smooches to marcel. :)
Posted by: carolyn at June 13, 2005 04:09 PM
You know, that makes me jealous. See, Carolyn actually COULD give smooches to Marcel because Carolyn and Marcel live in the same city. Not that I want to move, but it's the principle of the matter.
Harrumph.
Posted by: Cari at June 13, 2005 10:11 PM