E-mail: Brian7Morris "at" hotmail.com Archives March 2002 April 2002 May 2002 June 2002 July 2002 August 2002 September 2002 October 2002 November 2002 December 2002 January 2003 February 2003 March 2003 April 2003 May 2003 June 2003 July 2003 August 2003 September 2003 October 2003 November 2003 December 2003 January 2004 February 2004 March 2004 April 2004 May 2004 June 2004 July 2004 August 2004 September 2004 October 2004 November 2004 December 2004 January 2005 February 2005 March 2005 April 2005 May 2005 June 2005 July 2005 August 2005 September 2005 October 2005 November 2005 December 2005 current Blogs Mandapants farkleberries Uranium City Records The C.M. Sienko Foundation Storyteller Musings Solotarian Views Lynne Wiora Tek Poker News Blog Some Biscuits Evil Eye Emporium Niggling Doubts Pressure Release Sara as Mommy runswithscissors Defective Yeti Afternoon Delight trancejen The Terrarium Bird Nird Slipperily Tofu Hut Stereo Gum Links Fixed Gear Gallery Get Crafty This is Grand Featherproof Books Gapers Block Chicago Bird Watching	No one must know my terrible secret... House of Noh! Sunday, June 30, 2002 I saw John Denver outside the grocery store tonight. I know what you are thinking. “This dude goes to the grocery store way too much!” And it’s true, I suppose, but the grocery store is really the ONLY place I go and so except for the grocery store I’m like a shut-in. It sucks because I think it’s the fact that the grocery store is the ONE place that I go to that my Meals-on-Wheels for shut-ins application keeps getting rejected. If the only place I went was, like, to a bowling alley or something then all that warm turkey cutlet and green bean almondine delivered to my door by pious churchgoers would be mine!!! I have to go to the grocery store a lot mostly because I just can’t handle pushing those big carts around the aisle so I just buy small quantities of supplies that don’t last me very long. I just can’t handle those carts. I mean, here I am with this big wire basket wheel boat pushing it around the grocery store and then everybody pushing carts starts following the “Rules of the Road” like in driver’s ed educational videotapes, what with their pushing their carts on the right and passing on the left. It gives me the cold sweats. And then there’s always some sort of traffic jam by the canned beans aisle and I’m stuck there in the aisle with my big cart behind all these old people yakking about soluble and insoluble fibre and I just freak out. No sir, a cart is not for me. I just use those little baskets and then I can hang one off my crooked elbow and jump and skip and prance through all the cart congestion. I’ve got to be free!! I’ve heard that grocery stores don’t like those baskets - people don’t do as much impulse buying because there’s not that much room in the basket. But if I walk into a grocery store and there aren’t little baskets there I’m like “Fuck it!” and I either march out or just gather loads of groceries up in my arms and either way I get even by making an ass out of myself. So here I am at the bike rack out in front of the grocery store tonight trying to fit some cat litter and cat food and some spaghetti sauce into my backpack so I can bicycle home and who walks by but John Denver (who must have risen from the dead, today must have been some sort of folk rock easter)!! He was looking a little rough around the edges but I’m positive it was John Denver. And so here I am trying to fit all this stuff in my backpack and John Denver was like, “Hey man! It looks tricky but it’s possible, Maaan!” I think that John Denver was being metaphorical. At least I hope he was being metaphorical because, quite frankly John Denver, I’ve been able to fit all that stuff in my backpack before and I’ve got bigger things to worry about than getting all my grocery store purchases into my backpack. So I’m going to assume he was being allegorical or something and now I’m brimming with new hope!! Brian 1:18 AM Thursday, June 20, 2002 I’m almost twenty-seven years old but still I seem to learn something new everyday. It really pisses me off because, I mean, when I can stop learning and just relax for a bit? I hope before I get too much older. Cripes. Today I learned something important in the grocery store. I was standing behind this (seemingly) nice young couple in the checkout lane when I saw them emphatically making angry gestures in my direction. I asked them to stop but they kept doing it worse and worse and I was like “Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!” really loud but they kept doing it so I had to get even with them and I started beating up on all the food in their cart. Like, I punched their egg carton until all the eggs were broken but that didn’t stop them so I poked finger holes in their loaf of bread (wheat bread, how pretentious!) and I dented some of their can goods on the checkout counter so they’d get botulism and then I took this bag of flour and broke it open on the side of the cart and started shaking it around all over the place. Anyway, the thing I learned, and this is important distinction to make, is that sometimes when it looks like people are making angry gestures at you they are really just talking in sign language to each other. Keep that in mind because I also learned today that if you smash all the food in somebody’s cart, even if you are totally justified in “getting even with them,” the manager of the store will make you pay for all the food you smashed or he’ll call the cops. Brian 12:19 AM Tuesday, June 18, 2002 I've been eating raw chicken again. Is that natural? I don't know, it's either a gift or a problem I guess. It's a gift like how people who are able to pound nails into their heads or lift really heavy weights with their penises have a gift. I've been thinking about joining the Jim Rose circus sideshow. I'd be the guy that ate raw chicken. Everybody would be like "No fucking way would ANYBODY eat raw chicken! That shit's bad news!!" But I'd be like "Yum, raw chicken!" And I'd scarf it down and people would pay a dollar to see me eat raw chicken and that guy with the penis weights. I'm not going to do the penis weights, though, I'm ONLY going to eat raw chicken. But that's enough, don't you think? I mean, I could lift a lot of weight with my penis, it's just that I choose not to. People really freak out about raw chicken. Honestly, I don't know what the big deal is. I eat all sorts of stuff raw. People just don't think very highly of chickens, that's all. When I worked at the animal testing plant I found out that there are laws about what mean stuff we could do to animals that people liked, like dogs and guinea pigs, but with chickens all bets are off. People just don't like chickens. For instance, like veal - that's pretty bad but ALL chickens live worse than even veal does - chickens get their beaks and shit burned off. The best part of the "Taste of Chicago" festival is the inevitable skinny hippy standing in the middle of the festival handing out pro-vegan brochures. I always admire that lone hippy because he's like this single Dutch boy trying to put his finger in the dike to hold back a huge ocean of Chicago meat eaters. I also like to imagine a huge Bears fan walking past and trying to take a bite of his sausage sandwich but missing and instead taking a chunk out of the skinny hippy. The Bears fan would chew, swallow, and then smile and then a bunch of carnivorous Chicago meat eaters would descend on the skinny hippy like a pack of wolves with barbecue sauce and devoure him and all that would left would be a backbone or something. Last year it was this really skinny red-bearded hippy. I think it's funny to have a pork (the most intelligent and personable white meat) sandwich in one hand and get a vegan brochure in the other hand. And then if you read from it whenever you see somebody buying an animal product - people really appreciate that. But honestly, this year's hippy was really really cool, so I'm sending him a "Peace out!" wherever you are Hippy. So anyway, the vegan brochure is how I know about the beaks getting burned off and shit. They're really mean to those chickens!! If you are a chicken-eater then you are to blame! Dirty chicken eater!! Oh yeah, so it's either the raw chicken "nibblers" I ate or the poisonous plants I put on them for seasoning that are making me feel not so good right now. I tried to cook the chicken, I just didn't wait long enough. And the poisonous plants. . . see, there's this weed in the organic gardens that is just taking over. I think it's dill, but I'm not sure. I don't know for sure because I am biased towards Dill because it is the funniest weed. I like to stand in the grocery store next to the "Dill weed" and pull people's sleeves and point to the "dill weed" and giggle. So I was out in the garden and the sun was shining and all I could smell was this overpowering smell of dill. I looked around and there were all these plants and I was like "These are either Dill or some sort of poisonous plant." So I ate a bunch. Brian 10:52 PM Wednesday, June 12, 2002 While I was riding my bike today I got hit by a guy driving a van. So now I know what that feels like. When I got home I told my room mate but he seemed unimpressed by my story. Later that afternoon I was talking to my room mate and the topic of Jimmy Buffet came up. “Yeah!” I told him. “That’s what I was singing when I got hit by that van. I was like ‘Wasting away again in Margaritaville. . .” when that guy slammed into me with the van.” “Why didn’t you say that before?” He asked. “That would have made your story more interesting!” Brian 1:19 AM Tuesday, June 04, 2002 It was hot yesterday in downstate Illinois. It was so hot that everybody was outside and crap. There were just a few puffy clouds up in the blue sky. I got a chance to ride my motorcycle down to my organic garden plot and impress all the organic gardening ladies. On a hot day like yesterday the mean old organic gardening dudes can’t be out because the heat is fatal for them but the organic gardening ladies were out in force and so I swaggered among the plots on the way to my plot 39 pointing and winking (they really like that) at them and complementing them on their gardens. See, I’ve been kind of teasing them. For the early part of this spring, the only visible part of my mega sexy body has been my buttcrack because it’s been kind of cold but organic gardening is a buttcrack-intensive enterprise. And so I’m pretty sure that they were watching as I squatted there in the garden crushing rootgrubs to death with a pair of rusty pliers and pulling weeds out of my chive patch. I’m pretty sure that the organic gardening ladies’ eyes were glued to my glo-brite white buttcrack as I toiled in the garden and when a single bead of perspiration formed on my back and grew into a drop of sweat and then rolled down the manly curve of my asscrack and into the hairy dark mystery of my crack I’m pretty sure that all their eyes were glued to my buttcrack and wide open with wanton organic lust. I had to do some watering yesterday and so I took off my pants and shirt (so they wouldn’t get wet). Besides, I was wearing white boxers and boxers are a lot like shorts, right? I pretended that I didn’t know that all the organic gardening babes were all watching and I was jumping and prancing and watering and striking all sort of different manly poses and I could tell all the organic ladies were really impressed. Unless you’ve ever been watched and adored like that, you may not be able to understand how I felt at that moment as everyone watched with awe from their garden plots. I decided to really impress the organic ladies and “accidentally” sprayed water all over my boxers and I was like “Whoops!! Wet boxers!” then I started to leap and dance and weed and sow. Well, anyway, long story short – the police decided to let me off with a warning but they said that if I do that again they’ll give me a ticket and if I do it again after a ticket I could get some jail time. Brian 9:48 PM

E-mail: Brian7Morris "at" hotmail.com

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House of Noh!

Sunday, June 30, 2002

I saw John Denver outside the grocery store tonight. I know what you are thinking. “This dude goes to the grocery store way too much!” And it’s true, I suppose, but the grocery store is really the ONLY place I go and so except for the grocery store I’m like a shut-in. It sucks because I think it’s the fact that the grocery store is the ONE place that I go to that my Meals-on-Wheels for shut-ins application keeps getting rejected. If the only place I went was, like, to a bowling alley or something then all that warm turkey cutlet and green bean almondine delivered to my door by pious churchgoers would be mine!!! I have to go to the grocery store a lot mostly because I just can’t handle pushing those big carts around the aisle so I just buy small quantities of supplies that don’t last me very long. I just can’t handle those carts. I mean, here I am with this big wire basket wheel boat pushing it around the grocery store and then everybody pushing carts starts following the “Rules of the Road” like in driver’s ed educational videotapes, what with their pushing their carts on the right and passing on the left. It gives me the cold sweats. And then there’s always some sort of traffic jam by the canned beans aisle and I’m stuck there in the aisle with my big cart behind all these old people yakking about soluble and insoluble fibre and I just freak out. No sir, a cart is not for me. I just use those little baskets and then I can hang one off my crooked elbow and jump and skip and prance through all the cart congestion. I’ve got to be free!! I’ve heard that grocery stores don’t like those baskets - people don’t do as much impulse buying because there’s not that much room in the basket. But if I walk into a grocery store and there aren’t little baskets there I’m like “Fuck it!” and I either march out or just gather loads of groceries up in my arms and either way I get even by making an ass out of myself. So here I am at the bike rack out in front of the grocery store tonight trying to fit some cat litter and cat food and some spaghetti sauce into my backpack so I can bicycle home and who walks by but John Denver (who must have risen from the dead, today must have been some sort of folk rock easter)!! He was looking a little rough around the edges but I’m positive it was John Denver. And so here I am trying to fit all this stuff in my backpack and John Denver was like, “Hey man! It looks tricky but it’s possible, Maaan!” I think that John Denver was being metaphorical. At least I hope he was being metaphorical because, quite frankly John Denver, I’ve been able to fit all that stuff in my backpack before and I’ve got bigger things to worry about than getting all my grocery store purchases into my backpack. So I’m going to assume he was being allegorical or something and now I’m brimming with new hope!!

Brian 1:18 AM

Thursday, June 20, 2002

I’m almost twenty-seven years old but still I seem to learn something new everyday. It really pisses me off because, I mean, when I can stop learning and just relax for a bit? I hope before I get too much older. Cripes. Today I learned something important in the grocery store. I was standing behind this (seemingly) nice young couple in the checkout lane when I saw them emphatically making angry gestures in my direction. I asked them to stop but they kept doing it worse and worse and I was like “Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!” really loud but they kept doing it so I had to get even with them and I started beating up on all the food in their cart. Like, I punched their egg carton until all the eggs were broken but that didn’t stop them so I poked finger holes in their loaf of bread (wheat bread, how pretentious!) and I dented some of their can goods on the checkout counter so they’d get botulism and then I took this bag of flour and broke it open on the side of the cart and started shaking it around all over the place. Anyway, the thing I learned, and this is important distinction to make, is that sometimes when it looks like people are making angry gestures at you they are really just talking in sign language to each other. Keep that in mind because I also learned today that if you smash all the food in somebody’s cart, even if you are totally justified in “getting even with them,” the manager of the store will make you pay for all the food you smashed or he’ll call the cops.

Brian 12:19 AM

Tuesday, June 18, 2002

I've been eating raw chicken again. Is that natural? I don't know, it's either a gift or a problem I guess. It's a gift like how people who are able to pound nails into their heads or lift really heavy weights with their penises have a gift. I've been thinking about joining the Jim Rose circus sideshow. I'd be the guy that ate raw chicken. Everybody would be like "No fucking way would ANYBODY eat raw chicken! That shit's bad news!!" But I'd be like "Yum, raw chicken!" And I'd scarf it down and people would pay a dollar to see me eat raw chicken and that guy with the penis weights. I'm not going to do the penis weights, though, I'm ONLY going to eat raw chicken. But that's enough, don't you think? I mean, I could lift a lot of weight with my penis, it's just that I choose not to. People really freak out about raw chicken. Honestly, I don't know what the big deal is. I eat all sorts of stuff raw. People just don't think very highly of chickens, that's all. When I worked at the animal testing plant I found out that there are laws about what mean stuff we could do to animals that people liked, like dogs and guinea pigs, but with chickens all bets are off. People just don't like chickens. For instance, like veal - that's pretty bad but ALL chickens live worse than even veal does - chickens get their beaks and shit burned off. The best part of the "Taste of Chicago" festival is the inevitable skinny hippy standing in the middle of the festival handing out pro-vegan brochures. I always admire that lone hippy because he's like this single Dutch boy trying to put his finger in the dike to hold back a huge ocean of Chicago meat eaters. I also like to imagine a huge Bears fan walking past and trying to take a bite of his sausage sandwich but missing and instead taking a chunk out of the skinny hippy. The Bears fan would chew, swallow, and then smile and then a bunch of carnivorous Chicago meat eaters would descend on the skinny hippy like a pack of wolves with barbecue sauce and devoure him and all that would left would be a backbone or something. Last year it was this really skinny red-bearded hippy. I think it's funny to have a pork (the most intelligent and personable white meat) sandwich in one hand and get a vegan brochure in the other hand. And then if you read from it whenever you see somebody buying an animal product - people really appreciate that. But honestly, this year's hippy was really really cool, so I'm sending him a "Peace out!" wherever you are Hippy. So anyway, the vegan brochure is how I know about the beaks getting burned off and shit. They're really mean to those chickens!! If you are a chicken-eater then you are to blame! Dirty chicken eater!! Oh yeah, so it's either the raw chicken "nibblers" I ate or the poisonous plants I put on them for seasoning that are making me feel not so good right now. I tried to cook the chicken, I just didn't wait long enough. And the poisonous plants. . . see, there's this weed in the organic gardens that is just taking over. I think it's dill, but I'm not sure. I don't know for sure because I am biased towards Dill because it is the funniest weed. I like to stand in the grocery store next to the "Dill weed" and pull people's sleeves and point to the "dill weed" and giggle. So I was out in the garden and the sun was shining and all I could smell was this overpowering smell of dill. I looked around and there were all these plants and I was like "These are either Dill or some sort of poisonous plant." So I ate a bunch.

Brian 10:52 PM

Wednesday, June 12, 2002

While I was riding my bike today I got hit by a guy driving a van. So now I know what that feels like. When I got home I told my room mate but he seemed unimpressed by my story. Later that afternoon I was talking to my room mate and the topic of Jimmy Buffet came up. “Yeah!” I told him. “That’s what I was singing when I got hit by that van. I was like ‘Wasting away again in Margaritaville. . .” when that guy slammed into me with the van.” “Why didn’t you say that before?” He asked. “That would have made your story more interesting!”

Brian 1:19 AM

Tuesday, June 04, 2002

It was hot yesterday in downstate Illinois. It was so hot that everybody was outside and crap. There were just a few puffy clouds up in the blue sky. I got a chance to ride my motorcycle down to my organic garden plot and impress all the organic gardening ladies. On a hot day like yesterday the mean old organic gardening dudes can’t be out because the heat is fatal for them but the organic gardening ladies were out in force and so I swaggered among the plots on the way to my plot 39 pointing and winking (they really like that) at them and complementing them on their gardens. See, I’ve been kind of teasing them. For the early part of this spring, the only visible part of my mega sexy body has been my buttcrack because it’s been kind of cold but organic gardening is a buttcrack-intensive enterprise. And so I’m pretty sure that they were watching as I squatted there in the garden crushing rootgrubs to death with a pair of rusty pliers and pulling weeds out of my chive patch. I’m pretty sure that the organic gardening ladies’ eyes were glued to my glo-brite white buttcrack as I toiled in the garden and when a single bead of perspiration formed on my back and grew into a drop of sweat and then rolled down the manly curve of my asscrack and into the hairy dark mystery of my crack I’m pretty sure that all their eyes were glued to my buttcrack and wide open with wanton organic lust. I had to do some watering yesterday and so I took off my pants and shirt (so they wouldn’t get wet). Besides, I was wearing white boxers and boxers are a lot like shorts, right? I pretended that I didn’t know that all the organic gardening babes were all watching and I was jumping and prancing and watering and striking all sort of different manly poses and I could tell all the organic ladies were really impressed. Unless you’ve ever been watched and adored like that, you may not be able to understand how I felt at that moment as everyone watched with awe from their garden plots. I decided to really impress the organic ladies and “accidentally” sprayed water all over my boxers and I was like “Whoops!! Wet boxers!” then I started to leap and dance and weed and sow. Well, anyway, long story short – the police decided to let me off with a warning but they said that if I do that again they’ll give me a ticket and if I do it again after a ticket I could get some jail time.

Brian 9:48 PM

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