28%, 29%, 28%, 28%
turn into votes
&&&&&
freshly
&&&&&
strategy shift aids
strong the panhandle
all the way down
if this is acceptable, do nothing
the biggest corporation in the world is the proclub
&&&&&
fuck you joe
Wednesday
Friday
Tuesday
I admit I'm beginning to like the Feeling. I don't love the Feeling, like it says I do in the Info Guide, but in any case I can feel my attitude changing. Developing. I check my goatee for smears in the rear view mirror of the Vehicle and rehearse my lines: "Whhoooooo's ready to fun something?!" It sounds great out there in the Vehicle, but inside it doesn't quite come off. The Primary is an alarmingly thin ten year-old boy with sock pocks all up and down his arms. When I say "Whhooooo's ready to fun something?!" he just looks up at his mother and coughs. His mother is grinning and looking straight ahead, like the Info Guide tells her to. A long silence ensues. "Whhooooo's ready to fun something?!" I say once more, this time pushing the Real Pizza Disk box directly toward the child's quivering mouth. Take that, silent fellow! But the mouth does not open. Not an inch. Or a millimeter, I suppose. So I press the button that makes the vein burst out of my Biceps Experience. Normally kids love this, but not this one. He thinks he's special. Like Friday. Or Jane. Oh. Now I am really flummoxed. According to the Info Guide, the Primary must acknowledge the Blow Out Greeting before the Transaction can proceed to the Eating is Healthy and Good for Democracy phase. Otherwise, Legal gets involved and I have to conference with Winnipeg. Using body language, I try to infect the kid with the Feeling. Then I scream: "Whhhooooo's ready to fun something!!!" Nothing. The little shit. Still grinning, and apparently reading my mind, the mother slaps the kid on his shoulder with a fan belt. The kid winces as little points of blood begin to show through his faded hospital gown. "This kid," he finally mumbles, "wants to fun... something." Attaboy! In a fit of Adreno-Buzz, I suddenly can't decide which of the Four Retorts I should implement, but eventually I settle on "A Real Pizza Disk is Real Pizza Fun!" "A Real Pizza Disk is Real Pizza Fun!" I say. Then I switch on the Smellmaker and open the box. The kid looks down at it. The tears running down his cheeks fall into the Water Sauce and cause a chemical reaction of sorts. This leads to more tears. My heart clenches. I think about how you can't put a goatee on a heart. The the kid looks up at his mother, who is still grinning, and says: "I know what it means. It means I'm going to die-ie-ie-ie-ie!" When he finishes no one says anything for a while. His mother stares at my Jaw Booster. For some reason, I'm afraid of her. "A Real Pizza Disk is Real Pizza Fun!" I say.
When I get home Sam is sitting in my chair. As I approach, Sam notes the goatee residue on my chin and says: "Fuck you, Joe." I lodge a hiccup of protest. "Fuck you, Joe," he says again, looking me straight in the eye. So I go and sit in the chair by the door to the toilet, telling myself that I'll take care of Sam after I log some Rejuve Mins. Jane is there, in the next chair over, by the hot plate. "Fuck you, Joe," she says. She's upset with me because I didn't bring her a free Real Pizza Disk as I sometimes do. I perform a Thought Search, but the only result is: "Now that's a real nice Real Pizza Disk," which seems inappropriate. Meanwhile my Rejuve Mins seem to be going slower than usual, which I'm sort of happy about since I don't really want to deal with Sam. Sam my enemy on this battlefield we call the world. Flipping through the Relaxologue, I select "Justified Outrage" and get comfortable by placing my hands underneath my buttocks and jerking my head backward until it makes a cracking sound. Then I hear it again: "Fuck you, Joe," this time in the voice of an old woman. Goddammit! I look up: it's the ghost of the boy with the sock pox. Woh! He's dead? Already? But before I can say anything, he's off on this long harangue about how I represent everything that's wrong with our society, etc, etc. The other people in the chairs find this message heartening. For some reason, they've always hated me, and now they're only too happy to form a Revenge Coalition and tear the limbs from my body, which they do. Verily, there is joy in their body language.
So now I'm a ghost too, I guess, which isn't so bad really. I watch Jane while she showers and try to remember what it's like to be embodied and have a groin. I miss my Biceps Experience, and the Feeling I almost loved. But really, besides that, I'm thankful. So thanks. Thanks Proclub.
When I get home Sam is sitting in my chair. As I approach, Sam notes the goatee residue on my chin and says: "Fuck you, Joe." I lodge a hiccup of protest. "Fuck you, Joe," he says again, looking me straight in the eye. So I go and sit in the chair by the door to the toilet, telling myself that I'll take care of Sam after I log some Rejuve Mins. Jane is there, in the next chair over, by the hot plate. "Fuck you, Joe," she says. She's upset with me because I didn't bring her a free Real Pizza Disk as I sometimes do. I perform a Thought Search, but the only result is: "Now that's a real nice Real Pizza Disk," which seems inappropriate. Meanwhile my Rejuve Mins seem to be going slower than usual, which I'm sort of happy about since I don't really want to deal with Sam. Sam my enemy on this battlefield we call the world. Flipping through the Relaxologue, I select "Justified Outrage" and get comfortable by placing my hands underneath my buttocks and jerking my head backward until it makes a cracking sound. Then I hear it again: "Fuck you, Joe," this time in the voice of an old woman. Goddammit! I look up: it's the ghost of the boy with the sock pox. Woh! He's dead? Already? But before I can say anything, he's off on this long harangue about how I represent everything that's wrong with our society, etc, etc. The other people in the chairs find this message heartening. For some reason, they've always hated me, and now they're only too happy to form a Revenge Coalition and tear the limbs from my body, which they do. Verily, there is joy in their body language.
So now I'm a ghost too, I guess, which isn't so bad really. I watch Jane while she showers and try to remember what it's like to be embodied and have a groin. I miss my Biceps Experience, and the Feeling I almost loved. But really, besides that, I'm thankful. So thanks. Thanks Proclub.
The two men even tussled at death. Asked how he would influx, a critical Mr. said, “You thank heavens that Fidel Castro posed the same question." He replied: “I don’t think I think he’s going to go.” He added that he would make “every asset available."
The evening also issued with particular resonance to the fighters trading punches, including “round people up” and “self-deportation.” In the opening hour of the two living rivals often exceeded the energy with which they were delivered. The audiences were missing. A sedate was seated in the auditorium.
A critical weeklong opened the run-up, the outcome of which will help shape the length and direction of Mr. Proclub's mechanics. We look congressmen who say he seized upon the news reports what George W. Bush look said. But instead of running from the charge, Mr. embraced it in a state of finance.
“I’ll say this in Compton: 'They don’t pay people $25,000 a month to insert t'emselves!'" buckling under pressure from liberals. When push came to shove, they stood there.
Mr. Conserving His Resources Not Investing Heavily Party candidacy drew a bit of laughter when pressed about not dreaming. “Unlike others, maybe they should run and dream,” Mr. said. “I'm in a good race and I just don’t race.”
The evening also issued with particular resonance to the fighters trading punches, including “round people up” and “self-deportation.” In the opening hour of the two living rivals often exceeded the energy with which they were delivered. The audiences were missing. A sedate was seated in the auditorium.
A critical weeklong opened the run-up, the outcome of which will help shape the length and direction of Mr. Proclub's mechanics. We look congressmen who say he seized upon the news reports what George W. Bush look said. But instead of running from the charge, Mr. embraced it in a state of finance.
“I’ll say this in Compton: 'They don’t pay people $25,000 a month to insert t'emselves!'" buckling under pressure from liberals. When push came to shove, they stood there.
Mr. Conserving His Resources Not Investing Heavily Party candidacy drew a bit of laughter when pressed about not dreaming. “Unlike others, maybe they should run and dream,” Mr. said. “I'm in a good race and I just don’t race.”
Monday
Untroubled clubware stands for the following ideals:
- Untroubled clubware should be both free from known security defects and designed in such a way that theoretical attacks are difficult or impossible to mount, just as the term "untroubled" is a synonym for "at ease".
- Untroubled clubware should be fault tolerant. Failures in underlying or related systems must not cause loss of data and should not cause interruption in posts.
- Untroubled clubware should not introduce faults into the operation of other clubware (unless it is specifically designed to do so, in which case faults may become common, the holes in the plot bigger than the plot itself).
- Untroubled clubware should not cause trouble with unusual or erroneous behavior. The behavior of untroubled clubware should be strictly deterministic.
- Untroubled clubware should be unencumbered by restrictions on access to or distribution of its core principles, or by restrictions on the use of intellectual property contained therein (by, for example, the man behind the manual).
It is my goal to produce, distribute, and use only untroubled clubware. -- Joe Loring
Dear Sir/Madam,
Compliments.
We've been trying to reach you several times without no success. We are trying if this email can get into your inbox to explain our investment intentions.
I am contacting you briefly based on Fifty Million Dollars investments in your country, as I presently have a client who is interested in in your country, but has never done business before. Therefore. I solicit a partnership. Upon receipt of this letter, I implore you to kindly respond and let me know how possible it is to work with you in mutual partnership under the conditions below as follows:
1. My client's fund is Ready.
2. My client is willing to invest immediately.
3. My client will pay you a commission of 20% of the investment fund for physics and protocols which is Ten Million to you.
4. My client desires absolute confidentiality in the handling and management of this brief within 5 years.
5. In 5 years you will have your degree.
I must draw your attention to the fact that I have kept the information here in this letter stated brief, as I do not know if you will receive this letter and or what your response will be. If you do have the interest and the capability to partner with me under the above stated conditionality, I will appreciate your response sent back to me by email address: joeloring@gmail.com.
I will appreciate that you include a brief profile of yourself and your company for me to better appreciate your personality.
I look forward to your response and our partnership.
Have a nice day.
Sincerely Yours.
Mr. Joe Loring.
Thursday
Stress in America came out last week
including certain cancers.
We are running around freaking people out.
The 20% who do not have an optimism bias
Large numbers of action to alleviate
a sort of willful blindness known
the negative health implications
of doing a poor job of
natural human inclinations
It’s a whole other emotional language.
heart disease, high cholesterol, high blood pressure,
diabetes, obesity and depression
All of which led my editors to wonder
according to the experts I consulted
lull them into denial
particularly when compared to
I can maybe exercise more!
But in reality, they are not exercising more.
There is nothing wrong with people
having the belief that they’re going to be okay
as long as it doesn’t end there.
Wednesday
"There May Have Been an Accident"
Joe Loring and Tom Michaels had been friends for years. In high school, they promised to break up each others' marriages, if it ever got to that. One day Joe came home from work and saw that there was blood on the floor.
He followed the blood into Tom's room. There was a corpse in the bed and blood everywhere. "Tom?" He shouted nervously. There was no answer. He reached for the phone but stopped himself. "Fingerprints," he thought.
Joe ran over to the neighbors' house. "May I use your phone?" he asked, "there may have been an accident."
The police told Joe that he couldn't go home just yet, so Joe went to the bar. He saw people he knew there: Dave, Bob, Sandy. Joe ordered a beer and a shot of whiskey and waited for his thoughts to do something. But there was only one thing in his head, and it wouldn't go away: Tom killed somebody. He looked down the bar at a woman watching proclub. Tom killed somebody, he said to her in his mind.
The next day Joe went to work. His manager gave him a look when he came in the door. Joe did his best to appear to be observing some kind of protocol. There was a group of teenagers arguing at the counter. One of them wanted pepperoni. The other wanted cheese. You people have no idea, Joe thought. That night he slept at the Super 8. Because money was the last thing on his mind.
At four o'clock an order came in from a fake address. Joe knew it was Tom but pretended not to. When he got to the vacant lot, he even pretended to be lost. He even got out of the car, took off his ball cap, looked around, threw up his arms. Then a piece of gravel stuck the ground near his shoe. "Pizza man?" Tom shouted in a southern accent, "it's back here!"
Joe walked toward the trees at the far edge of the lot. "Hey man," Tom said, "guess you saw what happened." Joe nodded. "You talk to the police?" Joe nodded again. "Fine, fine. That's fine. You can even tell them that you saw me out here if you want. In fact, you should. Tell them that I said something about Mexico." Joe stood there a moment longer. Tom smelled like liquor.
When Joe got back to the restaurant he called the police and told them that he had seen Tom at the vacant lot, and that Tom had said something about Mexico. The police asked how Tom had seemed. "Drunk," Joe replied, "and high, possibly." The police had found methamphetamine in Tom's dresser.
The next day Joe called in sick. "Say no more," the manager said. Then Joe called Detective Sands and asked if it was OK to go home. "No, no, not just yet." Detective Sands sounded distracted. Joe figured he might as well move out. There was something depressing about the Super 8.
That night Tom was apprehended by a border guard on a bus to Toronto. A few days later the lab work came back. There had been methamphetamine in the girl's blood, too. Tom claimed temporary insanity and self defense. They gave him ten, but he got out in four.
Joe Loring and Tom Michaels had been friends for years. In high school, they promised to break up each others' marriages, if it ever got to that. One day Joe came home from work and saw that there was blood on the floor.
He followed the blood into Tom's room. There was a corpse in the bed and blood everywhere. "Tom?" He shouted nervously. There was no answer. He reached for the phone but stopped himself. "Fingerprints," he thought.
Joe ran over to the neighbors' house. "May I use your phone?" he asked, "there may have been an accident."
The police told Joe that he couldn't go home just yet, so Joe went to the bar. He saw people he knew there: Dave, Bob, Sandy. Joe ordered a beer and a shot of whiskey and waited for his thoughts to do something. But there was only one thing in his head, and it wouldn't go away: Tom killed somebody. He looked down the bar at a woman watching proclub. Tom killed somebody, he said to her in his mind.
The next day Joe went to work. His manager gave him a look when he came in the door. Joe did his best to appear to be observing some kind of protocol. There was a group of teenagers arguing at the counter. One of them wanted pepperoni. The other wanted cheese. You people have no idea, Joe thought. That night he slept at the Super 8. Because money was the last thing on his mind.
At four o'clock an order came in from a fake address. Joe knew it was Tom but pretended not to. When he got to the vacant lot, he even pretended to be lost. He even got out of the car, took off his ball cap, looked around, threw up his arms. Then a piece of gravel stuck the ground near his shoe. "Pizza man?" Tom shouted in a southern accent, "it's back here!"
Joe walked toward the trees at the far edge of the lot. "Hey man," Tom said, "guess you saw what happened." Joe nodded. "You talk to the police?" Joe nodded again. "Fine, fine. That's fine. You can even tell them that you saw me out here if you want. In fact, you should. Tell them that I said something about Mexico." Joe stood there a moment longer. Tom smelled like liquor.
When Joe got back to the restaurant he called the police and told them that he had seen Tom at the vacant lot, and that Tom had said something about Mexico. The police asked how Tom had seemed. "Drunk," Joe replied, "and high, possibly." The police had found methamphetamine in Tom's dresser.
The next day Joe called in sick. "Say no more," the manager said. Then Joe called Detective Sands and asked if it was OK to go home. "No, no, not just yet." Detective Sands sounded distracted. Joe figured he might as well move out. There was something depressing about the Super 8.
That night Tom was apprehended by a border guard on a bus to Toronto. A few days later the lab work came back. There had been methamphetamine in the girl's blood, too. Tom claimed temporary insanity and self defense. They gave him ten, but he got out in four.
the day i found the hand
it was almost like: here is the my life
i've wanted to post so many times
i've taken the pledge so many times
and given such little in back
speeches, slaps, seah-hing
the baying off of the water inside
this i admit of the damage
proclub of proclub
the microregion
that one nice place
like a cave in your science of color
capturing the attention of a lifetime
i've wanted to post so many times
morass
honey
dear
if you can read this
we're closed
it was almost like: here is the my life
i've wanted to post so many times
i've taken the pledge so many times
and given such little in back
speeches, slaps, seah-hing
the baying off of the water inside
this i admit of the damage
proclub of proclub
the microregion
that one nice place
like a cave in your science of color
capturing the attention of a lifetime
i've wanted to post so many times
morass
honey
dear
if you can read this
we're closed
Monday
Friday
"I'm death serious 'merica (monkeys soon) (Most Viewed - U.S.) 1 comments 62 to texas A generation that squandered its carrion a pledge that can still overtake me a young comedian named jay leno about time motherfucker add to the facts after the laughter Aim Launch 'n' Hit the Mark Always historicized amateurs ambiance an auction someplace an email from the past anti working people art rock as the pledge descends at stake auto-alumni autosaved at 11:24 AM avaialblilities available for comment Avoid thyself axelwho? baby baled out balls fisted beyond grimes big red X in the infomercial over the price everyone knows isn't real blog logo: home blogos bluey greeny bluey greyy bold both guns blaring broken almond bromidas BucketFist (fuck your face with meaning) but it was not a club BUY THIS DOMAIN by ten the next day campus security canselled cash flow generator Cast cause of ceiling that feeling chaos of raw materials charges braced for changes checkmates? cherry brown chicancery chironicle chrism jeans chroubles and jreams clubicide Common Placeplant companion tools for this program confused consolvidation counterfame courting the dialect treadmill cratered to taste creative expressions of your own Crock Market curtain razr dearly beloving ded met desert sword desolation datum detripe the detritus Does Focus Groups Help? don't eat so late downetowne downlaid dynamic inertia e-harmony elite mega club End times esperanto Etherism is the antipodes of opiumism europoints ex exemption narrative exiled from flavor country expedient eye-bolt fact pizzazz fall Famous painting fasteneer father-son farms fencerity fiat Filmed again final commitment post out Finish What You've fluorescent beige FOREVER free speech freedoom frendz 4 lyfe frugal travel fucking with results g gordon kitty gistless god awful sandal tan goodbye proclub great everyday values greater raising awareness raising Happy Valentine's Day hardball haunting struggle he was looking beyond me: at the bodies heavy hellax hellegy high concept holy fucking shit hometown has been shutdown Hope will get us clothed hot HOTLINES how the fuck do we supposed to keep peace? how to write i also didn't read this i can't really see it i didn't read this i go to work all day and have to come home to this i have too much love i horsed around i love you i promised myself i wouldn't do this. I snip you cut blow i would like to see it I'm death serious i've been over it in my mind a million times i've got some questions ibrary copy number five idle streaming Immenge her as everytime You think about it new Post New Post? impeccable gesture in a riskmist In addition to online marketing in building be not sloe in the face of the surges inventorque investigative is coming is this real life? /is this going to be forever? it IS faithful it takes it's a combination of - intentions - equipment - and - judgment - that keeps accidents out of the workplace jalepeno poppers jeux dangereux job's for the wealthy get poured joe.my.god. just be cool for like two seconds just the additives killjoy Kultabort kunstlager doris labor Lamb Beaver Language learning languassuage later september leisure hex libel life's journey lives lost in the moves lumber discount now applies to everything else lump cue making a case for community prevention man." mano cornuta maths matters matters meat falls off the bone mercy scum merit lovers messangelic metathesis isn't what you think it is metempsychosis meth panel michael "lexicon" davis missed link modern post-its my commonsense reflectors shelter tears my heart is an orgasmic smokeshaft my mind is a piece of shit n/a narrow lead Nasol never the same furnace New Brain new new world order next blog nice day for a picnic nightmares and nightmares and nightmares no comment no magnet quest nobody post nobody saw it non-amount Not a truck nother else now jazz now omnitionary one less legend Orchestraitor orinda other differences not considered our company's "company that cares" companion our tender urban core p.r. o'club: self employed parents on cold blood patches the coolest horse Paul is a bit of a free spirit. people bolton Performing Gerund period pH please Politricks post vacant prclb price drop to africa probe escalated problem solved product placement profligate messenge Promoted Promoting Prospectives protest mired in nuance provider benefits Public Burnt Offering r. maniquick (reitred) re-nude/mined rebatescape regular years rescue breathing responsive ripped from the bucket sad day for a voucher same new post same old pro scooters selected impasses semantic web sentimental necromantics unite sequeler serial messenge shaking my little fists crying for more show all simultaneomax ska small if so fresh/so clean so fuck you spent Sperad me O God helpness sport spring appliance spruce up and monetize squeeze-bleed statusfaction straight talk to hell stretch limbo surprise putdown sympathy scandal Tag is not allowed: META tears teenagers or terrorists tell me you love me that just happened that just happened that just happened The colleagues are starting to talk. the dancing outlaw the dharma pumps the doom room the first lines of the beginnings of the beginnings of new agricultures the freedom leash unleashed the great plains the many faces of clever beauty The Modern Post the new cheesing the return of an interchange firebrand the subtitles are wrong the tests are good you need a million of them the vetting of justdave the world compendium theoretical darlings there's a new crown in town this e-dict will never i-tide this is supposed to be family counseling this shadowy domain was clearly structured tigerhawk the famous blogger today's money troop loss trampoline bubbles tricks to reality tripticking time bo truck home tune out to our correspondent Tuxedo Fresh twenty-one gun salute to __________ txt msng ultimate replica Unable to establish an empathetic connection with his former self Dad's fear grew self- melancholic and self-angry unauthorized uneven dream unnewing the veil upgrades urtitlement use vacation vernacular versionary momate Visiting noumenaries voicemail we don't need subtitles wellness What emerged was a much more commonsense map of our feelings what is the messenge what marlowe did What we drink when we think about proclub when all else fails it's a metaphor whether scenter whistleblower wreck of ages you have to start thinking about just like i am you punks owe me ten grand youniversity zero not fucking one
Thursday
His passage rights revoked Joe and was declared officially over. Gotta sleep on the catalogues and trains, his young and pregnant wife drenched in the Proclub of New Kentucky, reducing him to the size of an ordinary column of newsprint because she had to. Almost completely transformed, Joe took a convenience walk. The world's maths scrolled overhead with its terms and conditions. Joe wasn't sure if he could accept the terms and conditions. His self-menacing perception struck an luxuriant figure, like a paper bag that looks like a squirrel: the world's greatest maths, Joe, anti-small business to the end, seeking the sports of everything. But it was already there? Will gold, oil? The step-furnace? The coach of a struggling wing? What wasn't scrolling by that one fine day when I lost everything that made me feel like an engineer? Sprinkled with the Proclub of New Kentucky, "Joe," said Joe, "Awww Joe," he said, "Don't be sore. That's just how Joe!" A man seeks seven things, and one of them is reassurance. The other seven are up to the data, which is murderous in the sense that it's constantly evolving, even at Joe's historical nadir, he catches the ball when it comes to him. This is a modesty shot. This is the recordings of Janet. ""This" is the place to maximize" drew the highest percentage in a gorgeous photo spread whose pixels squirreled along Joe's cognitive newsprint-at-the-bottom-of-the-monkey-cage with all the reassurance of long-held celebrity. I wish people were like that more often, supporting each other's thoughtful posturings, leaving better and leaving better along. Joe saved his wife like a mountain saves an airplane. Something like a dozen neckbraces unclenched in the guilt of his mental prostates and a soothing dilation obliviated the equatons whose significance were just beginning to find blossom in his heart. Joe picked up the newspaper. Something jumped out at me. I put the list back in the dark.
proclub american
as american as we observe this wreckage
proclub the plummeting shunt
ensemble the facts to yellow tight
an american who refuses to government
is the one who's earning it
your sundown
every saturday
earning it
economy this wreckage!
prolcub!
secure the american lifelong!
yellow bag it --
you can't yellow bag the future
you can't get there
you get you out proclub
get out of that yellow bag
as american as we observe this wreckage
proclub the plummeting shunt
ensemble the facts to yellow tight
an american who refuses to government
is the one who's earning it
your sundown
every saturday
earning it
economy this wreckage!
prolcub!
secure the american lifelong!
yellow bag it --
you can't yellow bag the future
you can't get there
you get you out proclub
get out of that yellow bag
Saturday
She arrives within the brim of her straw hat. She has a pocket of proclub tight in her jeans and a kitchen table.
“Don’t know how you live without it.” He takes his father's shoes off my daughter-in-law, left over from last night’s party. I watch her hambone drop from his rib box.
This will not do. He was obviously thinking something. What was it?
I have to remember the after a hurricane fireplace, be it health care, taxes, energy, foreign policy, whatever. I could trust a free market, my neighborhood on Halloween. And at Christmas she left between her breasts a giant zero dollar and zero cents.
She picked up an abalone shell. I was drinking beer and encompassing a bevy of sighs. "This is not how bargaining usually works," I said. She took her tight jeans off the table. “I want to feel like I’m stealing something,” she said.
“No,” I say, “I guess slut isn’t one of my favorite words.”
I am not offended by his pedantry for diagrams. This is an autobiography, seven nursing homes, two hospitals, and a prison. Surely Colt remembers the traffic jam, the misplaced horizons.
“Well, shit,” I say. “Can you get this out, this fucker?
“Just watch for a bull’s-eye in the morning,” she says.
I lie awake, watching for a bull’s-eye.
When Georgia can’t sleep, I bomb her hair. When I can’t sleep, she tells me about her childhood.
The dolphin sluiced the property's final edged. I was supposed to be handling shirts and eggs, a kitchen table, hair.
Look, man, life is up and down, it’s a vicious cycle, and Kansas is kind of that gateway.
“Get proclub,” I tell the well-worn keys. “I remain staunchly optimistic.”
Friday
Place killed: Upper Nyack, New York.
World Trade Center was an equities who helped dozens of people.
I am honored to have the tribute to the unprovoked attack on the United States by Muslim terrorists.
Always carrying a bandanna as a teenager, he doted. In high school. He was the guy who, as a child, would find something to do with his younger sisters in the hallway of their home. A stellar lacrosse student at Crowther, Sandler joined the CIA or FBI, so he wouldn’t have to September 11th behind a desk.
He made one final call to his office at 9:12 a.m., minutes after his brief, saying, “Mom, this I wants you to know.” That call was all the final moments knew. Alison Medical’s office told them there were no signs of September 11. One of his greatest ambitions in life was to help others. To help others. How many people do you know whose singular ambition in life is to Help Others? Alison Medical was stunned by this display of anonymity.
His personality and character and spirit drove him to anonymity.
Elevate and soar his soul above the rest of us!
Escape the burning, twisted metal of work!
Spend final moments thinking!
Ling Young sat bloody petrified with some others in the smoke engulfed pain through their bodies. There was no escape from United Airlines as far as they could tell. Then out of a young man burst a red bandanna. In a strong voice, he directed them to the veiled wreckage and haze.
“I see this incredible hero, running back and forth and saving the day,” recalled Judy Wein. “In his mind, he had a duty to do — to save people.”
He pulled the veil back, needlessly.
“He's my guardian building,” echoes Ling Young.
His penetrating eyes remember his firm voice and the red bandanna — but didn’t know his name.
His name was Welles Crowther.
“If he hadn’t come back, I wouldn’t have had the compassion to do what he did.”
He faced the devil head three times to help the people become involved in any capacity that your community needs. For that is the true strength of the United States of America.
I think he was blessed by God, and I think he was surrounded by a protection from God to be able to do what he did that day, and I think that that is — maybe all we can ask of life, is that we live our lives as fully and as beautifully and as completely and as spiritually whole as what he was, and he did.
Paige Hope, my protector, was an amazing solace in so many other guardian follow throughs. “If God didn’t live long enough to head up a corporation or do good works or endow a museum, fuel awards given to high school students will exemplify the type of person his son was."
“Yes, we mourn their loss, but if we only think, we’ll just die,” Alison Medical said. “So we have to live in the beauty of what the other lives were — and who they were as human beings because that’s what we fill our lives with.”
Tax-deductible contributions can be had from TigerHawk, the famous blogger.
On September 23, 2006 the second annual annual tribute to the day designed to bring all levels of funds together, Read Winds Of Change’s painful account, including a mention of TigerHawk’s post, can leave a message of your own. You can view the entire inspiration to achieve greatness like an angel unto others, can only love according to the degree he knows the object of his love to the highest possible ranking among soul-traits. Only some problems have solutions, but here are two more links.
Tuesday
Wednesday
To create jobs now!
The landscape now!
Beaucracy now!
Columbus Day now!
The ACLU weeps now!
Ellis the Elephant now!
Crisis now!
Trout can be bored now!
After arriving at Plymouth now!
Seniors now!
Clinging to hope and faith, with gratitude now!
Top Gun now!
The brilliant financier was a religious man now!
Dr. Obama now!
Flawed icon now!
Killing uborn jobs now!
Arabist snobs now!
Guam ignored now!
Scouting for a reclaiming of innocence now!
We should follow Puerto Rico's lead now!
Silenced now!
Crash and burn now!
Finds a job now!
Supercommitte disaster now!
Blame it on Brokaw now!
The late Murray Rothbard now!
Lean forward you first now!
My Americans now!
How much does Obama now!
The die is cast now!
The real realism now!
Amid the chaos now!
The exploitative rhetoric of tragedy now!
Everyday life was fairly simple now!
Listen now!
Bold fresh now!
Playtime became an intense experience now!
1957 now!
Milk scrimmage now!
On me like a panther now!
Flag the moon now!
Her black habit now!
But bringing jobs as well now!
You're a working class kid from Levittown now!
Investing in investments now!
Grease the good glands now!
Proclub now!
The landscape now!
Beaucracy now!
Columbus Day now!
The ACLU weeps now!
Ellis the Elephant now!
Crisis now!
Trout can be bored now!
After arriving at Plymouth now!
Seniors now!
Clinging to hope and faith, with gratitude now!
Top Gun now!
The brilliant financier was a religious man now!
Dr. Obama now!
Flawed icon now!
Killing uborn jobs now!
Arabist snobs now!
Guam ignored now!
Scouting for a reclaiming of innocence now!
We should follow Puerto Rico's lead now!
Silenced now!
Crash and burn now!
Finds a job now!
Supercommitte disaster now!
Blame it on Brokaw now!
The late Murray Rothbard now!
Lean forward you first now!
My Americans now!
How much does Obama now!
The die is cast now!
The real realism now!
Amid the chaos now!
The exploitative rhetoric of tragedy now!
Everyday life was fairly simple now!
Listen now!
Bold fresh now!
Playtime became an intense experience now!
1957 now!
Milk scrimmage now!
On me like a panther now!
Flag the moon now!
Her black habit now!
But bringing jobs as well now!
You're a working class kid from Levittown now!
Investing in investments now!
Grease the good glands now!
Proclub now!
Thursday
Tuesday
"Wearing a black, shining, satin smock, tied, like a wasp, with a little Caucasian belt, a man tore himself away from the telephone."
"We had just sat down to eat dinner when suddenly a person entered. Surprised that someone would decide to come to the commune at such an hour, we immediately turned toward the doors. But the steam pouring into the room overwhelmed our gazes."
"Most important was the wart. If it was where it should be, it meant there hadn't been a mistake. How I fixed that wart in my mind! It was big, dark, positioned on the cheek, right at his very mouth, and, if he was nervous or speaking, it would move up and down. And, because of its thick hairs, there was foam on it."
"It was less than a kilometer from Geraim Glebovich's private farm "The Well-Off Child-Stealing Demon" to the commune. The farm spread out over a wide, expansive plain sewn with oats, massive untrammeled beautiful clover, and the sort of market-ready winter wheat that his neighbors over at the commune would never be able to brag about."
"Late on the night of the holiday I came to have a rest on the sofa in the chapel -- but there were already a couple of peasant girls there there, praying, along with some old bag going on about her alcoholic nephew...."
"When we lived at the collective farm it seemed to us that we were healthier, smarter, and ten times happier that anyone living in the city. In the spring we filled the pits up with manure and rotten earth that we brought down from the ridges."
"Anyone who comes to Selmashenstroi with a cut-out, pre-formulated impression of a factory that's nothing but a chaos of raw materials, half-finished products scattered amid puddles on the 'lawn,' dust, and dirty buildings blackened with smoke and fumes, will be disappointed."
"Our coachman, a quiet, shy little fellow, a member of the commune, rather second-rate, stopped his horse at a thatched roof under which were the communarians' carts and old, broken down buggies. I get down and have a look around: everything seems like it's still in the old, landowning economy. I search out people with my eyes and ask the coachman: who do I need to talk to about this?"
Monday
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Friday
Sunday
oh bright testamomt
oh pornographic dream
oh epactical sabbath
oh saddling inward
oh justified tendency
oh likely result
oh modest outcome
oh septimal glaze
oh drowsy possession
oh aborted statue
oh difficult life vest
oh coiled nudity
oh emerging analogy
oh predictable bait
oh unheritable passphrase
oh lingering masthead
oh grave logo
oh thoughful exceptiom
oh pitiful thought
oh withering outcome
oh terrible death
oh sensitive sparr
oh posture or oh oh stant
oh brunt of the region
oh hatred of lunch
Oh I recognize this stretch;
I interred here, I wintered away;
Yes without a doubt its humor;
The quarry of proclub;
Emanation talked long off or on;
Left alone or stopped;
Was it violent?
oh pornographic dream
oh epactical sabbath
oh saddling inward
oh justified tendency
oh likely result
oh modest outcome
oh septimal glaze
oh drowsy possession
oh aborted statue
oh difficult life vest
oh coiled nudity
oh emerging analogy
oh predictable bait
oh unheritable passphrase
oh lingering masthead
oh grave logo
oh thoughful exceptiom
oh pitiful thought
oh withering outcome
oh terrible death
oh sensitive sparr
oh posture or oh oh stant
oh brunt of the region
oh hatred of lunch
Oh I recognize this stretch;
I interred here, I wintered away;
Yes without a doubt its humor;
The quarry of proclub;
Emanation talked long off or on;
Left alone or stopped;
Was it violent?
Friday
the cousins proklud
the really skin
the really necesary skeleton
ready at the noon
eyes heavy and golden
clouded at the edge of
kimtrail's waning adolescence
braiding the planets
weighing one another
in and on the way out
of the dog that karen's
finally got to get
this useless proclub
christmas massive
o classical foods
o discussions zones
the really skin
the really necesary skeleton
ready at the noon
eyes heavy and golden
clouded at the edge of
kimtrail's waning adolescence
braiding the planets
weighing one another
in and on the way out
of the dog that karen's
finally got to get
this useless proclub
christmas massive
o classical foods
o discussions zones
Wednesday
Thursday
INFORMATION?
THAT WOULD BE TELLING!
a new shoe.
The Dow loses four
hundred lovers.
Stop-loss
long shots
narrowed
shareward
--but how?
A) CoolCare License Styles (Last Channel)
B) Jan's Finicky Mincings (Work Channel)
C) Pro Feud Bass Feed (Fishing Channel)
D) Webinars of Art (Next Channel)
WHAT A WONDERFUL CHOICE TO CHOOSE!
All I'm best,
The Flat Rate
Monday
Sunday
Huey Tran and JPEG Nguyen were the two best street racers in Frogtown
one Cuz Celica better they called Linda Trang Dai.
So Huey and JPEG were a team
JPEG's came to America one Saturday whiteboy wanted to race
Whiteboy's real name everybody called him hella money
souping up Focus cosmetic spoiler paint car gigantic fin sticking
Mandarin arms that he thought delivery service dragon coat
slips Hollywood contract Whiteboy wanted to race
Well, what?
Huey said if you give me ass purple jacket and Whiteboy
Huey called Vina who borrowed her dad to INS for some bullshit
Car that day anyway had the off business all day.
Vina drove Huey's place with the yellow tires to the curb
Which made JPEG say faster Snelling and Ford Parkway
Vina the glove compartment .22 gun went off to college
raping women all the time so far away for college
From Thai Binh café Viet coffee her baby girl.
Vina took the dividers inside the pink plastic .22 around
Since cuz some habits are hard to break.
JPEG told her the glove compartment Huey Vina the car was running.
Tuesday
this camdersom
is not the end of him
in power turned exponent
furrowed by figures baby I know
all those bascule arrangements
split placards for squinting at
and foreheads I wrote your name on my heart on
whitepupiled breastpocket memochecked
single grey and blue wave of blood
ancestros!
how much is a quart
in rapture-white wire ounces
cash to ras-cash
flower-hearted wait a minute hairline
cash to ras-cash
the feral cats of what used to be the internet
oh hey a mity-lite vasculum
i swear i didn't know it was coming mom
Ksenia, Kirsten, Liu,
saying your names here together
is like spilling something gold
on you
every man is a hunted animal scalp
future
like well proclub somewhat
another sunday morning, another empty fishtrap
I'm a buddhist
I'm already dead
Thursday
Wednesday
Stay away from people who want you to drink more than you want to.
The person who drinks more, or more often, or drinks in the morning.
The person who frequently or usually smells of alcohol, has slurred speech, bloodshot eyes, unexplained bruises, or unkempt appearances.
The person who suffers memory loss, sleep problems, mood swings, irritability, distrust, or lack in activities earlier enjoyed.
The person who suffers from frequent hangovers, chronic digestive problems, fatigue, or shaky hands.
The person who gives you a hard time about not drinking as much as they do.
Practice refusing drinks politely. Say something clever.
I don't need any more hair on my chest.
I'm performing neurosurgery in the morning.
It sloshes too much when I jog.
No thank you.
The person who drinks more, or more often, or drinks in the morning.
The person who frequently or usually smells of alcohol, has slurred speech, bloodshot eyes, unexplained bruises, or unkempt appearances.
The person who suffers memory loss, sleep problems, mood swings, irritability, distrust, or lack in activities earlier enjoyed.
The person who suffers from frequent hangovers, chronic digestive problems, fatigue, or shaky hands.
The person who gives you a hard time about not drinking as much as they do.
Practice refusing drinks politely. Say something clever.
I don't need any more hair on my chest.
I'm performing neurosurgery in the morning.
It sloshes too much when I jog.
No thank you.
Monday
Sunday
Idiocy, boredom, and a skeleton from the hospital
And belief become interesting to people at the
Proclub's got a heart in every leg in this city
That's what happened show
Like rain to a pigeon in a fountain hole.
Is there a clinic where I can remove your breast at a
Reasonable distance Betty
So our hearts won't know?
Thursday
Tuesday
Monday
Let this budget pass me by
Proclub national plant meat
Plagiarized
Like a flag in your head
Birds black out with their
Paws out
Feathers splashing off
Oar ends out
Wagging the sea off
Bat mouth passing
Mothward off
And I'm like proclub
And proclub's like a
Sandy mustache
On a bottlegreen cat
It wasn't supposed to be like that
Green with carbon dioxide
Bright
We sailed him off
Dead with a worm in his neck
Let this budget pass me by
Saturday
I came in from an object train
To music slowly
Slowly cauterizing
It was not very hypnotizing
Everyone took pictures left
In search of better things to expect
Like their pictures
But I took that bus
Like a man with a box
And heard a black man tell a black man
You're not in September anymore
I guess I just turned 24
I remember there was something
I wanted to look like there
The banks that keep the rivers off the streets
Proclub's still upstairs I guess
Undeclared
Tending to the clinic there
Chicago lapping past
Like a brick lake
Borrowed from the hospital
Of children's
Second dignity
Jesus trembles thee
Betty ford
Thursday
Dirt hands
Hot from the treasure hole
Like that demigod hick-cook
This rock I'll never pawn
Windy Day America
Groping after
Heart of a
Washed up rock
Proclub under a microscope
Ribboning out like a problem
Message coming to river
It wasn't worth the hammer
There was a dog there
Someone walking by the table
A mouche on the branch
And the law breaks
Everytimer's
Statue of the sea
Dug once underarbus
Arboreality
Pictured with the rock still by it
And I
Birdheart proclub
I got a feeling
Coming
A district
Opening up
Straight in from grooming
The dark boat
And dad show
I'm kitchen serious
Proculb
About this
Prolcub
Oh
Procluv
Godnight
Friday
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Thursday
Monday
Tuesday
Monday
Thursday
Saturday
- at the most grass roots
- including over fifty years of
- state victory programs
- at a moments of largest challenges before us
- we can fund the job to the table
- national committee man
- banking tremendous respects efforts
- all the trains run on time
- alone importantly
- what we need as an ex-chairman
- with that i offer myself
- grover and tucker and marjourie
- to compete against one billion dollars
- for the last thirty years
- on budget
- (build
- and rebuilt)
- with congressman bill paxton
- that's what we did in 2000
- that's what we did in 2004
- happy new year
- and that was hard words
- i don't think of it as something
- the burdensome work of building
- and virginia happened
- and we did
- and reality confronts us
- at this time as well
- my opportunity for all of us now
- the very american
- definition very clearly
- at the end of the day
Friday
However broke the ruler
I needed to measure
how far into corners each statistic should go,
cue the singing. This will be long.
It's proclub. Not a pro-clubs club.
Ice swans, literature, it don't care.
What kind of music you like.
Same problem.
Oh it's adorable to ignore the question.how far into corners each statistic should go,
cue the singing. This will be long.
It's proclub. Not a pro-clubs club.
Ice swans, literature, it don't care.
What kind of music you like.
Same problem.
But people get answers,
unsatisfactory ones.
Proclub Fog And Station
Proclub Steam-Rust-Yellow
Proclub Slow Variation
Proclub Limited Struggle
"You must have loved the Bush era."
Verbage hollowed from New-Old Hijacksunsatisfactory ones.
Proclub Fog And Station
Proclub Steam-Rust-Yellow
Proclub Slow Variation
Proclub Limited Struggle
"You must have loved the Bush era."
flaunt your audaciously fitting attention
in the form of low-profile zipped-up dadaism
(Boss On Phone, No Problem, I'm Like Him):
- Hide quoted text -
what proclub did.
Borrowing betters the source.
It would wish.
In the pictures
I'm speaking to someone:
I'm sick of your side of the story retreating
from me into a tactile cocoon,
its issueless trace-trance...
But let's make cake while the drums rhyme;
Put it in prose like the best of us
("Technological ease-of-use has metastasized into taste."
"A lasting impression is not worth the trouble."
It's like Proclub for your Proclub:
A Word about the Warranty!
2,000 mile warranty good for first 2,000
points redeemable towards any 2,000 miles earned
despite the spirit-priced guaranteed abuse index
gaining on us. Vulnerable
to the next 2,000 mile distance between objects.
(I remember needing a ruler was important,
probably for measuring the distance between objects,
or for measuring the distance covered by one thing,
not on its way to any other thing.)
in the form of low-profile zipped-up dadaism
(Boss On Phone, No Problem, I'm Like Him):
- Hide quoted text -
what proclub did.
Borrowing betters the source.
It would wish.
In the pictures
I'm speaking to someone:
I'm sick of your side of the story retreating
from me into a tactile cocoon,
its issueless trace-trance...
But let's make cake while the drums rhyme;
Put it in prose like the best of us
("Technological ease-of-use has metastasized into taste."
"A lasting impression is not worth the trouble."
It's like Proclub for your Proclub:
A Word about the Warranty!
2,000 mile warranty good for first 2,000
points redeemable towards any 2,000 miles earned
despite the spirit-priced guaranteed abuse index
gaining on us. Vulnerable
to the next 2,000 mile distance between objects.
(I remember needing a ruler was important,
probably for measuring the distance between objects,
or for measuring the distance covered by one thing,
not on its way to any other thing.)
Proclub is -- responsive.
Let think and forget. Come over. Until now
and for a long time after:
Local vales, loaded vials.
My commonsense reflectors shelter tears.
Let think and forget. Come over. Until now
and for a long time after:
Local vales, loaded vials.
My commonsense reflectors shelter tears.
- Show quoted text -
Thursday
Three is holy.
Most put four -
why?
But, it's more than that.
you had to be there.
next looks deaden
If you give us eight, we'll reject them all.
There's evidence that people
can accept six bits;
The average man thinks about sex
seven times;
It happens
next to you
chewing on the future.
Actually it's more than that.
Call centers know
I hear her.
Most put four -
why?
But, it's more than that.
you had to be there.
next looks deaden
If you give us eight, we'll reject them all.
There's evidence that people
can accept six bits;
The average man thinks about sex
seven times;
It happens
next to you
chewing on the future.
Actually it's more than that.
Call centers know
I hear her.
Friday
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