Monday, April 19, 2010


5 am i am going to put the last of the garbage into the can (though it shouldn't be called a can anymore since it's made out of plastic )...ahem, container. last night was a big win for those blazers and today was to begin the translating of a story from chicken scratch to blog but as i dropped the trash turned to settle into a reading typing marathon what did i see? a chicken! it's chicken head bopping about like a parent whose lost their child, 'hey you see them (bop)? you over here you see anything (bop)'.
i had no idea there were chicken in the neighborhood. so i stand at the fence feeling the oats of american freedom and industry. it seemed to me, that no where else in the world could one watch a chicken so early in the morning without fear of a dictator or a bombing or a taliban leader wondering about your dancing history.
did you ever see that documentary 'arab star' where the lady gets voted off and for her final song dances? after the song she is assaulted by a whisper campaign, rolling eyes and also death threats. this woman feels the heat of the boiling water and calls home to mommy and daddy begging to come back. her parents agree, but think that the heat of the water is too hot and would much rather stay away from them. their house get's graffiti-ed with the word 'whore' and all for a dance!
what kind of assholes are against dancing? and how does everybody go along with it?
in america i could be watching that chicken drinking like a dope, using my medical marijuana and doing the chicken. a very heady morning of celebration to our lady liberty and our great freedoms.
soon after the chicken comes a rumbling truck. an ambulance. it slowly grumbles down the street with a flood light reading the house numbers, not moving fast enough to be a real emergency headlights dimmed as if trying to be polite but ruining it all with the floodlight.
after the ambulance comes a fire truck. nobody is moving quickly save for the chicken. being unsure whether it's good manners to stick my nose into the scene i watch around the tree at the corner of my yard. i can't tell anything. something happens doors are opened the firetruck backs and leaves. the ambulance goes up the street maybe 120 feet stops has a discussion with somebody in a hooded sweatshirt. i assume the murderer now allowed to leave scot free because there was not enough evidence only to later be caught by portland csi who will find a snot bubble dried in her ear that has enough dna.
so enough. it still hasn't moved. i don't see any body screaming or crying none of the neighbors are rattling their blinds and i have to use the toilet. as i turn i think about the chicken. it seems confused about what to do, as well. so i throw a pine cone in it's direction, one must always be aware that freedom comes at a price. we both scatter to our homes.
the ambulance finally has left.
i have decided to call one person a night. a new leaf in personal involvement hope i still have the white pages, though everybody has unlisted cell phone #'s now. random 10 digit dialing!
i am beginning to build apps for the iphone! go blazers! start story translating tomorrow or more off the cuffisims!

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