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Name: Zack
Country: United States
State: Wyoming
Metro: Casper
Birthday: 11/25/1982
Gender: Male


Interests: Prose and poetry; the human experience.
Expertise: Very little. About everything.


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AIM: findbosco
MSN: findbosco
ICQ: 176314521
Yahoo: findbosco


Member Since: 2/25/2004

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Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Currently Listening
The Reminder
By Feist
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The yesterday's nearest now: spent in Yellowstone National Park, a summer of love found, inside one skin and from within another, Amy Leigh her name; weekly backpacking journeys meant physical resilience, that same skin shining with sweat of health.

At the summers conclusion, a flight to New York brought this one back to The One, a week of bliss with the woman who loves me, as love her I do.

Today, called tomorrow, finds a new home in Telluride, at the foot of non-whited mountains; waiting for the snow to fall finds new music in the air, inaccesible in the remoteness of Yellowstone, ahhhhh, music music music, you are so good to me.

This today lasts, allegedly, till early April - once again across the country on old wheels, to packgoat minor possesions of survival south to north along a trail of the same of ridge it traverses, Appalachian in name, to work the body, while the mind works away -

Afterwards? A desk of money sidling from side to side, evenings studying the logic of law, haw haw heee, testing properly should boot one bum west to the burg of lee, to study the law more thorougly, with the idea of eliciting some good, environmentally.

The date has now been upped.


Monday, July 02, 2007

Currently Listening
Return to Cookie Mountain (with Bonus Tracks)
By TV on the Radio
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Attack Penguins

A Primer

 

These quiet and randomly camouflaged individuals are so secretive that no one had even heard of them until they read this, the primer of everything you need to know about Attack Penguins.

 

Initially, one would think these menacing creatures are soft and cuddly, overgrown stuffed toys, stuffed with all that’s fluffy and sweet, when in truth, they have a heart that thump, thump, thumps to rip other beating hearts out.

 

LESSON: Beware the attack penguins.

 

Making these killing machines even more frightening [and yet, so alluring, yes?] is this completely unknown fact: they work for hire.  Yes!  Their dark and swift movements have not even motive nor principle, save the almighty truth of money [generalized, for we as yet have not ascertained what currency they trade in, but have heard it rumored they only accept krill from the Scotia Sea, and then only the very freshest, their payment needing to have been caught within the past fourteen hours] – they perform their deeds of destruction in dark for dastardly devils with dollars which is paid fleet fishermen for fresh food.

 

LESSON: Beware those who hire attack penguins.

 

Though this may cause the faint of heart to sink despairingly towards lower elevations, breaking decrepit furniture that lies within their crashing path we feel it is necessary to be completely on the level about all the information we have been privy to in research for this report.  There are many facts about these slight and sadistic sleuths but none so absolutely bone crackingly frightening as this.  This fact, this freak of nature, is also their greatest strength for it is their best kept secret. 

 

They fly!

 

Though it is not known how they summon their powers of levitation, an observer from our research squad recently sent in the following report.

 

            Sirs:

           

On November Twenty-Fifth, I had been at station MoonSlip for the past fifteen days without any observed activity when I noticed a large raven performing exercises in the overcast sky, the weather having been without a ray of direct sunshine for nearly my entire shift.

 

This continued for thirty minutes, when up from the frozen ground a rocket of black and white leapt into the sky; some three hundred vertical feet were covered in mere seconds. So fast was the movement that I found it difficult to keep my spotting scope leveled at the observed target.

 

Upon reaching the same height as the aforementioned raven, the previously exercising bird being reached unaware, this rocket slowed and, hovering, performed a deft and bloody execution, first delimbing the bird sending its recently fluttering wings to the ground below, then denuding it with rapid movements of its razor edged flippers, and finally, decapitating the victim.

 

All of this occurred so rapidly that I was forced to slow down the recorded images by five times to catch the movements above described.

 

Once this mission was completed, what I had ascertained to be an attack penguin sped to the ground, performing a corkscrew movement just before reaching the ground, splitting the surface and disappearing beneath the ground.

 

Sirs, as you know, I have previously proposed that these macabre mercenaries are able to move undetected through the use of subterranean tunnels.  I believe this recent occurrence is further evidence in that direction and request your permission and funding for further research of this theory.

 

Sincerely,

DominoFourtyFive

 

LESSON: Beware attack penguins killing from above and below.

 

After further research into the possibility of these attack penguins using the suggested underground transport tunnels, it has been discovered that such channels exist.  However, these do not appear on any form of radar, leading us to believe these creatures are not only physically dangerous, but also technologically advanced, with the capability of sending out masking radar signals to cover the presence of their sub-surface super-secret means of worldwide travel.

 

Thus concludes the primer of everything you need to know about attack penguins.  Please, good citizens, be careful, be wary and above all, do not piss off those friendly with fishermen in the Scotia Sea, remembering the wise words of Mark Twain: “Do not pick a fight with someone who buys krill by the boatload.”

 

 

 

The Institute for the Study of Attack Penguins

7/2/2007


Saturday, June 23, 2007

We shimmy down a fireman pole, burning with brutal movements, slowed by friendly friction, can we ever come down, have the ashes yet settled from our naked hometowns, what may they say when our besooted Achilles rests before their bleeding eyes;

 

conquering we shed tears for those trod under each delicate foot, saying unto our fathers, pleading with our mothers, we can only do right by our own personal light, their ideals are only fiddle rills in our one-another symphony;

 

so sing in harmony and join the cacophony of groaning branches just waiting to be laid to rest at the foot of our old trunk of time.


Thursday, May 31, 2007

Currently Listening
Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots
By The Flaming Lips
Do You Realize
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Do You Realize - that you have the most beautiful face
Do You Realize - we're floating in space -
Do You Realize - that happiness makes you cry
Do You Realize - that everyone you know someday will die

And instead of saying all of your goodbyes - let them know
You realize that life goes fast
It's hard to make the good things last
You realize the sun doesn't go down
It's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round

Do You Realize - Oh - Oh - Oh
Do You Realize - that everyone you know
Someday will die -

And instead of saying all of your goodbyes - let them know
You realize that life goes fast
It's hard to make the good things last
You realize the sun doesn't go down
It's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round

Do You Realize - that you have the most beautiful face
Do You Realize


Friday, May 18, 2007

Currently Listening
Lookaftering
By Vashti Bunyan
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Back upon the bed, restless eyes scan a ceiling of questions –

 

Three others sonorous rumbles shiver about the room as rocks tossed beneath a creek – but I am blissfully unaware, foam stuffed in my ears to make me so.

 

Strains of tomorrow and years forward whistle in, though closing in with such ferocity I can’t quite make out their shape –

 

A purpose, a defining, an understanding of….what exactly?

 

I watch as one upon a hill with field glasses, trying to make out a pattern from the rolling tumbling madness all around-

 

Making maps of all notable features found, I am still unable to find a path-

 

Surely, all these strings tied at points along the way will pull taut once I stumble across the center, a conclusion that leads to all beginnings-

 

These three most recent years were filled up as a closet, each hour spent mulling about the collected bits and re-reading faces to see if there might be some clue here or there; each night was revision of the past, with hope of discovering something new, something leading – till one brain found fever, and a hopeless pallor spread about as a smothering blanket on a summer night.

 

I wait now, not in one place, but travel on in joy and hope to bump into wayposts, to turn corners and strike through some web of truth; enjoying the hours, using the hours-

 

Maybe this new approach will catch the holders of wisdom off-guard, so long shielding their gems from my clawing, the moving away from their mountain may cause stones to fall.



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