The coffee is not even on yet and I'm already attempting to kickstart the brain with this useless daily droning.
"ping"
The coffee is now on. The ease of action in words. The passing of 120 seconds in one half of a second. No wonder Native Americans held the written word in strong distrust. Many thousands of years of culture, generations borne and died upon this land, wars, gain, loss, joy, sorrow, (well, you get the point sort of like a trip to the mall the day after tomorrow) and 'ping' "so we took the land from the godless savages," sums up it all up in the history texts. Yes, it still sums it up that way in history texts today. Maybe not in those words, but that's the message and now we let those g.d. red scalping motherfuckers spear fish? What the fuck? What did we slaughter all of them for to be nice to 'em today. Okay, tomorrow's a day for giving thanks, not for recalling the right and just will of god's people over the ignorant atheistic indigenous peoples who stand in the way of progress. (What the hell did my parenthetical aside mean?)

Admittedly, Indian rights are not my greatest concern as the day of giving thanks approaches. What is? Where the hell am I going to find lefse in Los Angeles? All those little things you get quite use to and even expect as a north-mid-westerner become hassles in L.A. I know where to buy brats now, true, but I can't buy 'em at the gas station! And that's the point. When I want lefse I want it at the Mega-Mart or Conoco, not some Norwegian speciality shop.

Mmm, that's some good medium roast coffee and hot, fucking god-damn hot, especially as side dribble falls off the spout in droplets down onto my foot and flows between big and second toe onto the floor. I call it the dance of the hopping "fuck" monster. It is done by bending rapidly up and down at the knee on one leg whilst shaking the other's foot vigorously in the air and mantricly uttering "fuck" in short bursts like a pissed off duck. Mmm, that's some good coffee. Thankfully, finding good coffee in L.A. is no problem.

Why did I wake and think Violence's first album was what I wanted to hear? It holds up, but I don't.
Situation resolved with the Stooges. 'Oh my and a boo-hoo.'

Tomorrow this house I share is playing host to fifteen people. A variety of folks with a variety of dishes in tow. We have Turkey. We have Ham. We have some queer veggie turkey thing for the rabbits of the group that can't eat meat. All those necessary trimmings from cranberries to sweet potatoes. (not Yams) Except, of course, lefse. That damnable flat potato bread. I'll find it...out there...somewhere..by god, I will not fail!
I think this sort of thinking lead to the making of "Krull."

Enjoy tomorrow. The last Thanksgiving of the 1900's. Next year we'll be celebrating Thanksgiving in spacesuits on rocketships heading for Rygel 7. Won't that be fun!? I'm preparing by stocking up on dilithium crystals in case the y2k bug causes a shortage. Better buy next years turkey now, lest the computers kill the Turkeys or the Turkeys kill computers or everything kills everything and koolaid costs $1.95 per dixie cup. Then what'll you do, smart guy?

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