Yeah, I'm half-Chinese. What the fuck does that matter?
Fuck. I broke my own First Rule: I am only a Bouncer INSIDE the Strip Club. I deal with the Shit in MY Environment, and I get paid for it. Outside: walk on...
So I am walking back from the Seven-Eleven with my Red Bull and sunflower seeds when I see this White Van parked on a side street, and the driver is talking to a young girl. I realize I know that Van: I've bounced the Driver from the Club a couple of times. Acts like he's gonna be a Big Man, then is all "Okay Okay Okay" as I bum-rush him out the door. Once he's outside the door: NOT MY PROBLEM...
But I don't like how this looks -- I get that vibe that something Bad is going to go down. As a Bouncer, you develop antennae for that vibe, or you get blind-sided, quick...
I casually walk up beside them, and the girl starts to back away from him: I see her eyes, she's got The Fear. The Guy raises his hands -- an Okay Okay Okay gesture -- and says There's No Problem Here, he is just looking for his lost dog. Lost Dog? What do you think I am, a twelve-year-old girl...?
I suggest he should probably move on, and turn to ask the girl if she is alright. Fuck. I just broke my own Second Rule: Don't turn your back on ANYONE you don't trust. I see the girl's eyes widen, but it is too late: the fucker just stabbed me in the back, an in-and-up move. Filleted. Fuck Fuck Fuck....
I fall to the gutter as the Guy jumps into his Van: he doesn't speed off. No, he just eases away, like nothing happened. I try to believe that maybe I'm not hurt too bad, but I know better: I'm fucked....
I remember when Ronnie from the Club died -- DUI into a tree after a tequila binge; he was proud of that car. Midnight Blue, nice rims. After the Funeral the Club was closed to friends-only for the night, and everyone drank and cried and laughed, maybe some illicit drugs in the back. I hope they do the same for me: fuck -- I'd really like to be there, I bet it will be outrageous...
I'm finding myself wondering who is on stage right now? Who is still in the Normal World I am leaving? Tyla? April? I always like April. Nice girl, just hard times. I drove her home after her abortion. Maybe something could have happened between us, I don't know. That would be against Strip Club rules, but that shit don't seem to matter all that much now...
The poor girl is crying now and ghost-faced and saying "I'm sorry, Mister" and I can't help but think I am more worried about her than I am about dying. Seeing this kind of thing is only going to fuck her up as she gets older. Hell, she might get totally damaged and end up becoming a stripper: Ha Ha....
I try to tell her it will be alright, but I can't get the words to form. I am feeling very cold, when just minutes ago I was complaining with the Seven-Eleven guy about the summer heat. The sky above is so big, so beautifully big, I never noticed that enough...
I can't help but think of driving April home from her abortion. Was it just like this? Out of nowhere and -- Zip! -- the Universe is over? She was second-guessing, but I wanted to support her. I wanted to support her, even if I didn't really believe it was RIGHT. Maybe I could've directed her a different way, I don't know: it fucking haunts me: this is my end, now...
I feel my body shutting down, step by step, like banks of lights at the end of the business. The sun is shining like a diamond on the silver of the Red Bull can by my feet, pretty despite the pooling blood. Sunflower seeds are spilled from the bag onto the street: maybe birds will come and eat my sunflower seeds after I'm gone. I'd like that. Birds. Tired. I think I will follow my Third Rule: Don't Look Back, Always Look Forward...
"Just zinnias???" The foliage on zinnias was like canine crack to my black lab, Babe. She went to heaven this Palm Sunday past. In Memoriam, I planted zinnias from seed. What a glorious display that provides an abundant supply of cut flowers.
I've been mulling over the wonderful realization that had those who drew and ratified the First Amendment known the components of religious liberty in its manifold possibilities, they might have been more specific. Certainly they knew times can blind us to certain truths and later generations can see that laws related to freedom of religion once thought necessary and proper in fact serve only to oppress. As the Constitution endures, persons in every generation can invoke its principles in their own search for greater freedom.
I can see that Employment Division v. Smith and Lemon v. Kurtzman are no longer necessary and proper, and in fact serve only to oppress. They must therefore be struck down to widen my religious freedom.
[i]Au contraire! He has posted some of his best work lately.[/i]
Here, or on his blog? I thought the interaction of poetry girl and the white van was bound to happen, but it did not have the flow or the ironic humor that I've come to appreciate. Ditto for the half-Chinese strip club bouncer. The tone is off, and abrupt. And we've lost two characters.
My wife likes flowers. She put in these nasturtiams. I live in a tropical rain forest. The nasturtiams took over. The damn things send out shoots. They'd be over the rafters if I didn't hit them with roundup once a month. Anyway, she asked me clear out an area next to the sidewalk so she could plant more flowers. Annuals, she said, they wouldn't take over like the nasturtiams. She told me to dig out the nasturtiams and not use roundup because it would kill the annuals she was going to put in when their roots got going. So she went off and, yeah, I hosed that little area down good with roundup after I pulled the nasturtiams. I didn't want them to come back. Then, following orders, I put down about fifty pounds of top soil over the roundup soaked earth. The wife bought some annuals and put them in. Marigolds and something else with pretty white and red flowers. Peonies, maybe. Everything looks like peonies to me. Or tulips or daisies, whatever. The marigolds did fine, but the red and white peonies dropped their buds and started dying. "It'll be fine!" Wife said. "They're just putting their roots down deeper in the soil!" Yeah, right. Their roots are going to love it down there with the roundup. Drink deep, little plant friends! Heh.
Isn't Justin Trudeau just dreamy? Just wait til he finishes changing the way Canada votes to ensure that his party never loses another election! Then he will be truly as dreamy as Putin!
Zinnias are my favorite flower and I have a large garden in front of my barn that is filled with many varieties. Like your picture, I also have verbena bonariensis mixed in with them. Taking a walk out there, and seeing all the butterflies on these flowers is an incredible sight.
You get so much bang for your buck by planting these seeds, and you'll be rewarded with fresh bouquets for the house. Look at all the varieties and colors that you can choose from:
Althouse said, "The leaves are canna. The flowers are just zinnias."
Yes, but something about the juxtaposition with the colors of the canna leaves transforms the zinnias from their ordinary garden selves into something wilder and less familiar. It's a gorgeous photograph, and the gardener who came up with the companion planting is an artist.
I'm enjoying the Phelps meme taken from the ready room yesterday when le Clos was doing his weird stuff.
Kudos to Lilly King -- and also to Ms. Meili -- for their breaststroke medals. I feel sorry for Iulia. If this were a movie, she'd be redeemed at the end, we'll see what happens. I don't think Lilly King should accept any drinks from V. Putin in the near future just before drug tests, however.
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28 comments:
Oooh! Very pretty! :-)
Almost tropical!
Like a Rousseau painting.
The leaves are canna. The flowers are just zinnias.
At the Allen Centennial Garden on the UW campus.
"The earth laughs in flowers."
Emerson
That's a beautiful photo!
Sisero Wong, Strip-Club Bouncer.
Yeah, I'm half-Chinese. What the fuck does that matter?
Fuck. I broke my own First Rule: I am only a Bouncer INSIDE the Strip Club. I deal with the Shit in MY Environment, and I get paid for it. Outside: walk on...
So I am walking back from the Seven-Eleven with my Red Bull and sunflower seeds when I see this White Van parked on a side street, and the driver is talking to a young girl. I realize I know that Van: I've bounced the Driver from the Club a couple of times. Acts like he's gonna be a Big Man, then is all "Okay Okay Okay" as I bum-rush him out the door. Once he's outside the door: NOT MY PROBLEM...
But I don't like how this looks -- I get that vibe that something Bad is going to go down. As a Bouncer, you develop antennae for that vibe, or you get blind-sided, quick...
I casually walk up beside them, and the girl starts to back away from him: I see her eyes, she's got The Fear. The Guy raises his hands -- an Okay Okay Okay gesture -- and says There's No Problem Here, he is just looking for his lost dog. Lost Dog? What do you think I am, a twelve-year-old girl...?
I suggest he should probably move on, and turn to ask the girl if she is alright. Fuck. I just broke my own Second Rule: Don't turn your back on ANYONE you don't trust. I see the girl's eyes widen, but it is too late: the fucker just stabbed me in the back, an in-and-up move. Filleted. Fuck Fuck Fuck....
I fall to the gutter as the Guy jumps into his Van: he doesn't speed off. No, he just eases away, like nothing happened. I try to believe that maybe I'm not hurt too bad, but I know better: I'm fucked....
I remember when Ronnie from the Club died -- DUI into a tree after a tequila binge; he was proud of that car. Midnight Blue, nice rims. After the Funeral the Club was closed to friends-only for the night, and everyone drank and cried and laughed, maybe some illicit drugs in the back. I hope they do the same for me: fuck -- I'd really like to be there, I bet it will be outrageous...
I'm finding myself wondering who is on stage right now? Who is still in the Normal World I am leaving? Tyla? April? I always like April. Nice girl, just hard times. I drove her home after her abortion. Maybe something could have happened between us, I don't know. That would be against Strip Club rules, but that shit don't seem to matter all that much now...
The poor girl is crying now and ghost-faced and saying "I'm sorry, Mister" and I can't help but think I am more worried about her than I am about dying. Seeing this kind of thing is only going to fuck her up as she gets older. Hell, she might get totally damaged and end up becoming a stripper: Ha Ha....
I try to tell her it will be alright, but I can't get the words to form. I am feeling very cold, when just minutes ago I was complaining with the Seven-Eleven guy about the summer heat. The sky above is so big, so beautifully big, I never noticed that enough...
I can't help but think of driving April home from her abortion. Was it just like this? Out of nowhere and -- Zip! -- the Universe is over? She was second-guessing, but I wanted to support her. I wanted to support her, even if I didn't really believe it was RIGHT. Maybe I could've directed her a different way, I don't know: it fucking haunts me: this is my end, now...
I feel my body shutting down, step by step, like banks of lights at the end of the business. The sun is shining like a diamond on the silver of the Red Bull can by my feet, pretty despite the pooling blood. Sunflower seeds are spilled from the bag onto the street: maybe birds will come and eat my sunflower seeds after I'm gone. I'd like that. Birds. Tired. I think I will follow my Third Rule: Don't Look Back, Always Look Forward...
Don't Look Back, Always Look Forward...
Don't Look Back, Always Look Forward...
Don't Look Back...
I am Laslo.
And now we will hear no more from Sisero Wong? I'll miss him!
Outstanding photo, great composition.
"Just zinnias???" The foliage on zinnias was like canine crack to my black lab, Babe. She went to heaven this Palm Sunday past. In Memoriam, I planted zinnias from seed. What a glorious display that provides an abundant supply of cut flowers.
I've been mulling over the wonderful realization that had those who drew and ratified the First Amendment known the components of religious liberty in its manifold possibilities, they might have been more specific. Certainly they knew times can blind us to certain truths and later generations can see that laws related to freedom of religion once thought necessary and proper in fact serve only to oppress. As the Constitution endures, persons in every generation can invoke its principles in their own search for greater freedom.
I can see that Employment Division v. Smith and Lemon v. Kurtzman are no longer necessary and proper, and in fact serve only to oppress. They must therefore be struck down to widen my religious freedom.
Zinnias have always been among my favorites with the range of pinks, oranges & reds.
I fear that Lazlo is about to hang it up. His menagerie of characters are all coming together like a Christopher Moore novel gone sideways. Sad!
Lilly King rocks.
I fear that Lazlo is about to hang it up. His menagerie of characters are all coming together like a Christopher Moore novel gone sideways. Sad!
Au contraire! He has posted some of his best work lately.
Mista Laslo, massage is nearly over. You want happy ending?
What you think will make me happy, Miss . . .?
Me not Miss.
You better not miss Miss. No happy ending that way.
You let me experiment Mista?
Depends.
Roll over. Me not miss. Hit perfect spot. Very rare technique. You get extra charge with no extra charge.
(Rolling over.) What's your name, Miss, in case I need to shout it out.
Me not Miss.
You said that. What's you name?
Van.
Van?
Real name Vanna but I like Van better. Van White. "Don't look back, Mista." Van White gonna give you happy ending. Go straight to Paradise.
Think I'll go now.
You go write more snuff vignettes? No. Time to stop. Don't look back. Better for you that way.
No look back Mista! You see Sisero if you do.
Uh! Uh! Uh.
You end happy now Mista?
[i]Au contraire! He has posted some of his best work lately.[/i]
Here, or on his blog? I thought the interaction of poetry girl and the white van was bound to happen, but it did not have the flow or the ironic humor that I've come to appreciate. Ditto for the half-Chinese strip club bouncer. The tone is off, and abrupt. And we've lost two characters.
I don't think Laslo always aims for humor. His best post ever [that I've read] was the abortion post.
"And we've lost two characters."
I'm hoping for a plot twist to save them. Snuff vignettes lack the appeal of his other work. To me, anyway.
Yes, mockturtle, that brought tears to my eyes.
My wife likes flowers.
She put in these nasturtiams. I live in a tropical rain forest. The nasturtiams took over. The damn things send out shoots. They'd be over the rafters if I didn't hit them with roundup once a month.
Anyway, she asked me clear out an area next to the sidewalk so she could plant more flowers. Annuals, she said, they wouldn't take over like the nasturtiams. She told me to dig out the nasturtiams and not use roundup because it would kill the annuals she was going to put in when their roots got going.
So she went off and, yeah, I hosed that little area down good with roundup after I pulled the nasturtiams. I didn't want them to come back.
Then, following orders, I put down about fifty pounds of top soil over the roundup soaked earth.
The wife bought some annuals and put them in. Marigolds and something else with pretty white and red flowers. Peonies, maybe. Everything looks like peonies to me. Or tulips or daisies, whatever.
The marigolds did fine, but the red and white peonies dropped their buds and started dying. "It'll be fine!" Wife said. "They're just putting their roots down deeper in the soil!"
Yeah, right. Their roots are going to love it down there with the roundup. Drink deep, little plant friends!
Heh.
http://www.therebel.media/canada_s_media_party_hits_full_putin_esque_glory_with_shirtless_trudeau_story
Isn't Justin Trudeau just dreamy? Just wait til he finishes changing the way Canada votes to ensure that his party never loses another election! Then he will be truly as dreamy as Putin!
Zinnias are my favorite flower and I have a large garden in front of my barn that is filled with many varieties. Like your picture, I also have verbena bonariensis mixed in with them. Taking a walk out there, and seeing all the butterflies on these flowers is an incredible sight.
You get so much bang for your buck by planting these seeds, and you'll be rewarded with fresh bouquets for the house. Look at all the varieties and colors that you can choose from:
http://www.swallowtailgardenseeds.com/annuals/zinnias.html#gsc.tab=0
Althouse said, "The leaves are canna. The flowers are just zinnias."
Yes, but something about the juxtaposition with the colors of the canna leaves transforms the zinnias from their ordinary garden selves into something wilder and less familiar. It's a gorgeous photograph, and the gardener who came up with the companion planting is an artist.
Anyway, I love zinnias.
I watched some water polo last night.
It is a strange sport.
The guys had more fat on them than I would have thought.
Maybe it improves their buoyancy.
I'm enjoying the Phelps meme taken from the ready room yesterday when le Clos was doing his weird stuff.
Kudos to Lilly King -- and also to Ms. Meili -- for their breaststroke medals. I feel sorry for Iulia. If this were a movie, she'd be redeemed at the end, we'll see what happens. I don't think Lilly King should accept any drinks from V. Putin in the near future just before drug tests, however.
Very nice photo Profess'r. Very nice indeed.
pretty pic
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