An effay on the moft ftudiouf, fcientifick, inftructive, and warm fcience of

Dagmar Chili.

D_c Classique: double grande

Suckier: previous



12:15 a.m.

Walking blues. Finally the reflog monitoring pays off. It ain't bookockay, but it's something.

Um, no.

09:31 p.m.

So that's how I recognized Dan Clowes' style.

drinkin on baked beans, shootin up salad rye
drinkin on baked beans, shootin up salad rye
lordy sweet momma, got satin crackers but I don't know why

bet a slow glide over the parking lot, jacktoothed bar legged rum, etc. Wish up the steptoe slide with a peach poe pie in my gum pocket, etc.

More, beans more beans, fart out that rum & whsky, sahr you got a bad deal at the brain ranch, start to hokey over etc. etc. fill in the spoiled points, etc.

5:13 g

"It's performance art. We play the National Anthem in German while PJ takes your temperature with his rectal thermometer."--zazu

5:13 f

I'm sure it sugared dagmar chili's health. Owo the clever, if you have to thank anything, thank the Naugahyde, thank obscure Claire, the beautiful girl needing Scarecrowtrol, with pilaf in her hair from the catfight in the studio, ...

5:13 e

I found these things, I think I made them.

One tells about the Elian Gonzales raid
  They came riding in on camels and they had bazookas, cheese wheels, and a coloring book

Next-- that reminds someone of the true story of Jesus
  When the wise men came they really bribed Mary & Joseph into handing over the baby and replacing him with a decoy dingbat baby. They brought him to Lapland, and he was there under the tutelage of the Grand Caribou. He was returned to his family at the age of nine-- at that time he questioned the teachers. Then later he wandered trying to find Lapland but wound up going to America for a while with some Phoenicians & eating mushrooms or ayahascua or something & returning to preach and be crucified.

And all the tickets we kept, under Vice President Hubcap, socialist spayed male at large amounts of nitroglycerin. This is not a sentence. The misosuymonary of the word "large" invalidates further insquirty. It's a pasta ape for all the titmouses. This is a sentence. Perfect surpassing, good excrescence, perfect uprising, native pall. But that "native pall", what could that mean? wondered famous adventuring executive Dick Sloane, king of all poppycock amino acid sereniunion processors and AIDS tables. He had seen the pall, yea, kast over the faces of the natives, yet these dry stones were speaking to him, in buckets! Who had been up the Smiley River for what tein peckats? Why! Mortimer Laminn! This is a sentence. Good supposition, perfect uprising, lamp o the limb refined. But that "lamp o the limb", what could that mean? wondered famous ad man Henry Shellecy, vizier of all pantomime butanoate bellomoronic decapapapitation and burning gables. He had bronchiodilated the limb, yea, shot through with lamplight the particulate dimc nums of the Shellecian coach, yet these dry stones were speaking to him, in buckets! Who had been up the Smiley River for what tein peckats? Why! Dandruff StoneEye! This is a science of the sentence.
Polyphiloprogenitive, grandfather of all apes, Popo sat and drummed his "li'l pope". The resonant barking dog sound something got him all in a fit. He slabbed up a side of hash and produced the doggie foot spatula. Flip it, Popo, flip that hash. Fry it.
Next, we Have mister Wallace H Shakebear, wallacey outhor of varions works involving typological sexual propositional exposections. We Have gratefully greeted him from far away. He is writer man of seventy good books, including "Poopy Fingers", "Elbow Table Dance Dander", "Barking Up the Wrong Lake: A Something Guide to Walking Your Terrier at Night and in The Wee Hours", "P00pY f1nG3r5 III" and "Lake Barking Dander". His hit 1987 hit "I Walk the Line" a remake of hit something was a good break from apartheid for the Shakebear clan.
"I walk the line
"Yes I doin fine
"You stepped crost mine
"Line what I walk HINE HINE HINE!
Down at the vaseline factry: Marge a maple stable saleslady has gotten the by goddest most damt official chairperson job. Making vaseline by the dozen. A shepherd in Italy, drinks three vaselines at every day's end; a grandmother teching Lamaze at a New Hampshire community college, drinks a whole case to "power-launch" her day; foreign dignitaries, from Cambodia to Nicaragua, are seen in ads for the tasty product.
While anointing the several personages ahem ahem I in a quite important capillary heading through a few forms 'n' functions of a person who didn't exist I overheard this:
"All the princesses united
"In a picture on the wall
"They were by the Lord created
"In an ancient toilet stall"
I figured this to be from the Galileo gasblaster stereo on his sofa, but it seemed like it was miles out of ahem ahem Tulsa or something so I made him drink beer till he puked blood so as I could get out of that place. Shee-it, Ron, what's that sa-sa-sa-saki on your sherif they-ar.
He takes your spider, he raises it ten, the butterfly too, and the kid to boot. Mister Zberlitz is drunk, shouting, "I'm not nothing! I'm everything, because I'm nothing too! So! And . . ." But nobody is listening to him, because they're also all drunk, off in worlds, here's Sam with a bloody nose (from altitude) he's lookin up at old yaller and what happen but his woman fall down on him crack his neck [... manuscript falls to earth with a great 'poosh' at this point]

5:13 d

Change in those patent lathered loafers for a patent falsity, an anti-fucking-factoid, __ If you're a Wally Scholar and I'm wrong, then tell me that. Otherwise, I you give THE COMEDIAN AS THE LETTER C

God wld it be fun to do this, but I'm not so able to be so full of horseshit. Beginning to see a new, full-bodied, fine-tasting morality for me. "Laters," he used to say, now at a film school perhaps, dippy roommate though he never knew it, first comfortable nihilist* I known.

* This is what J Purdy means when he says "irony" but since he uses "irony" as incorrectly (though in a different direction) as A Morrisette, he is a bitch; and a dumb bitch he is to bring specific politics into his stupid book.

5:13 c

Hardly believe this. Much classier design, however, than Pona Lui$a's HOPEMAGE ON THE INTERENT. And we all know that kids are better able to relate to anthropied animals than actinual achitomel human beings.

5:13 b

5:13 a

there's some combination rubber band & paper clip laying Amazing Grace on the table, this the thing: Rulez for the Dagmar_chili oysterkiller's kult: PREVIOUS, click that. As someone who can feel his arms move around, I think I speak for us all.