I Want A Man Like Jim Henson

Gentle, funny, creative, kind. Looks good in Seventies clothes like beards and turtleneck sweaters. A taste for the sick and twisted but man enough to be sweet and serious and talk openly about feelings.


Two words that don't go together= SEXY. PUPPETEER. But look at those eyes. That nose. Those teeth. That smile. This is a man you'd want in your bedroom. If not, you can go to my place and I'll go to yours. Use the big grey remote for the TV and make sure it's set to Channel 4. I put fresh sheets on the bed.


Jim aged handsomely, gave grants to struggling artists and his only vice was fancy cars. Frank Oz said he never once heard Jim raise his voice. He made the first Kermit out of his mother's old coat and once said, "The most sophisticated people I know - inside they are all children." Had he met me Jim would have been impressed by my burping skills and dead-on impression of a clogged drain.

I want a man like Jim Henson. Just not anyone's hand up my butt. I find that controlling.

I'm eating a lot of McDonald's lately. Bad scene. My new meds kill my appetite so thoroughly and completely that it's one of the few things that ever sounds appetitizing to me. There's a McDonald's twenty paces from my apartment. It's filled with hobos and 14 year old kids. Also some old people who might or not be homeless but probably are because they're laying face down on the table and their tongue is sticking to their newspaper and there's no food on the table anywhere. And chubby businessmen who approach the counter like it's a video booth, eyes averted and a shame-ridden demeanor. Two bacon double cheeseburgers, that's all. When you say "that's all" at McDonalds it always sounds so dainty. "That's all because I am not a pig and a disgusting human being like the rest of you chattel in the line behind me." I'm sensing a break though. Last night it was cold and not as satisfying. McDonald's is one of those things you don't eat for forever, like months and months. Then you go on jags where you eat it all the time and then you realize you're just chasing the dragon, baby. It's never going to be as good as that first time back. I think I'm going back to dumplings. Or Annie's Macaroni and Cheese. The thing I like most about McDonald's is the ketchup. The ketchup is extraordinary.

MORBID, MEOWBID, THE TERROR IS THE SAME

This is my cat Creature. He's trying to make it on I Can Has Cheezburger. His picture's been submitted but so far he's still waiting for his shot at fame. Thanks to Heather on the PhotoShop. No thanks to Adobe for their pukeshit trial version that always crashes my computer.

Because I Am One And Always Will Be.

You are the current high bidder.

Dirtbag

At the corner in front of the hardware store, waiting for my sister to meet me. Little duder comes up, grabs a 10 lb bag of potting soil, looks at me all shifty and books it down the street. I step around the corner to watch him, I want to make sure I just sawed what I just seed. He's doing the "What? Steal? Me?" perp walk and tucking his iPod earbuds into his tiny little ears. Fucking dick. You have enough money for a $250 dollar listening device but you can't pay $6.99 for a bag of dirt? If you were stealing food I could at least rationalize that you were hungry or homeless maybe. A DVD and I could pretend you were a junkie who was going to resell or return it for dope money. But DIRT? No one needs to steal dirt. The family that owns that store is nice. They have an 18 year old son that flirts with me when he makes my keys. WILL I GET THAT KIND OF SERVICE AT HOME DEPOT? I don't think so. But that's all I have if you keep it up. I hope your geraniums grow so tall they block your space heater and you die of carbon monoxide poisoning in your sleep.