<$BlogRSDUrl$> spinemaster

Wednesday, March 09, 2005


If food is so good for you, why do our bodies keep trying to get rid of it?

Saturday, July 03, 2004


Every morning he followed a routine. He would lie down on his back, bind a dictionary to his head with duct tape, and perform 2300 sit-ups. Six-pack? He had an entire case. He let his fingers move softly over the hard ripples, scrunching them up and down. To his right was a box of Lucky Charms next to a mini-fridge. He poured milk and cereal into the crevices and valleys of his well-defined abs and ate hurriedly from his stomach.
Something was going on.
He could smell it.
He wasted a bit of time examining himself in the mirror. His smooth golden skin stretched taut over muscles and tendons in high relief, like a suspension bridge of flesh or the US Pavilion erected exclusively for the 1974 World’s Fair in Spokane, Washington, about 320 miles west of Seattle, near the Idaho border. He flicked his left nipple softly with a thumb to make it erect and thus symmetrical with the right. And, of course, it felt good. Turning and flexing, standing sideways and doing some pelvic thrusts to watch his perfectly compact ass clinch and release, he could see why everyone wanted to fuck him.
Hell, he wanted to fuck himself.
But he had things to do.
He began to slap himself to get psyched up when out of protective instinct his other hand shot out like a cobra and grabbed his wrist, wrenching it down toward the floor and forcing him to his knees. Okay, okay, he won’t slap himself anymore.
He tried to think of something inspirational.
Today is the first day of the rest of your week.
Bolstered, he began to assemble his crime-fighting uniform.

Tuesday, June 22, 2004


Things I don’t do never get done.

Thursday, June 17, 2004


Buffets get me as excited as R. Kelly at the Kid’s Choice Awards.

Tuesday, June 15, 2004


Some of my best friends are in bands I hate.

Wednesday, June 09, 2004


People never know if I’m dead or not so I decided to make a quick appearance at the show. The glitternazis were out in full form, acting like they hadn’t seen me arrive and admirably stayed in character all night by ignoring me completely. It took a long time to get a drink even thought the bartender kept looking at me. My friends kept acting like they didn’t know me and would whisper something in his ear and then she’d look at me and laugh so I smiled back and waved.
I looked around the smoke-free room at all the people who probably wouldn’t fuck me and drank a warm half glass of beer somebody left on the bar.
The guy sitting next to me still hadn’t turned around or taken a break from his rapt attention to the band so I drank his beer, too.
The band seemed to have come equipped with a bunch of the same song played different ways. They were just okay, though they had some good musician sex faces. Nobody in the crowd seemed all that worked up, either, except the one guy who started looking around for his beer.
I made my way to the restroom and bought a whole bunch of novelty condoms just in case. The band had just started their next version of the previous song when I dove back into the cool night city and swam away.

Tuesday, June 08, 2004


I want to be on the Coast Guard, burn drugs in a bonfire, and then stand really close.

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