Saturday, September 25, 2004

Current tunes: Sippie Wallace - Women Be Wise

Women be wise, keep your mouth shut
Don't advertise your man
Don't sit around gossiping
Explaining what he really can do
Some women now days
Lord they ain't no good
They will laugh in your face
They'll try to steal your man from you

Women be wise, keep your mouth shut
Don't advertise your man

Your best girlfriend
Oh she might be a highbrow
Changes clothes three time a day
But what do you think she's doing now
While you're so far away?
You know she's lovin your man
In your own damn bed...
You better call for the doctor
Try to investigate your head

Women be wise, keep your mouth shut
Don't advertise your man

Women be wise, keep your mouth shut
Don't advertise your man
Now don't sit around girls
Telling all your secrets
Telling all those good things he really can do
Cause if you talk about your baby
Yeah you tell me he's so fine
Honey I might just sneak up
And try to make him mine

Women be wise, keep your mouth shut
Don't advertise your man --
Don't be no fool!
Don't advertise your man
Baby don't do it!


When I die, when I die, let me go, let me go, so weak, so cold, so bare, and I said take me down, take me down, to the clouds, take me down, take me down to the sea.... take me down, take me down, take me down to the river, where you'll never....let me be..... when I die, when I die, let her go....when I die, let me feel, let me weep, let me drown... she has such a soul, such a soul, but not like yours, not like mine. So let me go, let her go, but never let me die. I want to be yours, in your dreams, in your arms, in your bed, I should go, but you care. But when I die, when I die, I want you to see me, I want you to feel me. I want you to hold me, and crush me, and wish me away... When I die, bury me in your bed of rain, and cover me with your words, and your fears, and your pain. Let me die in your arms, let me remember your love, let me feel your body, and wither away in your world. Let me join your eternity, or cry in my pain... let me go, let me fall, let me die... when I die, when I die, bury me in my black velvet hat, cover my eyes with coins, and tell the world, I'm never coming back. Until you, I found you. You found me, and our souls. Mine was never like yours. So weak, so cold, so bare, my touched mine, and carried me home, to my pain, to your dreams of demented serenity...when you die, when I drown....when it washes over me....let me feel, let me cry, let me see your eyes.... each and every moment is an eternity, and serenity, and happiness combined in your eyes, in my arms, and whispers.... soft and bare....

Okay, so it's kinda depressing, but hey. It just kinda came pouring out of me...I was typing with my eyes shut...just feeling.... We shall get more poetic, perhaps:

When I saw you
Standing on the corner
With your eyes against the sun
And your face hidden
Inside apathy
My eyes turn around
Just to see you
And you spoke to her
Whispering words to dread

When I die
Won't you let her go?
Won’t you remember me?
But let her go.
Tell her my secret
Tell her my dreams for you
She has such a soul
But it was never like yours
So eternal
So empty
Yet so clear

When I die
I'd like you to bury me
With my cool
Black velvet hat
Amidst the rain
In your sacred rock bed
Where the rain fills our heads

So when I die
Take me down to the
Bed of rain
Cover me in your words
Cover my eyes with coins
And put a rose next to my head
And these words in my hand
To show the world
What is lying in the sand

Lord it makes me feel
So violated
But the words
Are my very own

Stretched out

Across my chest


And longing

For lustful reformation

And tell the raven to respect me

And the owl to be kind
That I have a soul to share

With the world
But it’s bare

And tell her you miss me

And remind yourself

You’re never going to feel me again

So let me go

Let me go

Let me go

I have such a soul

So eternal

So weak

So bare

I heard you moan as I thought of drifting

As if you could hear my thoughts

I heard your cries when I thought of the razor

Lying next to my bed

I can feel you

But let me go

Let me drown

Bury me in the bed of rain

With my painting in your room

Let me go

Let me go

Let me go

Let me go

When I die

You’re never going to touch my heart again

Let me fall

Let me cry

Let me wander

In your dreams

Wherever I may be going

Let me go

Let me be

Let me weep

On your way to the stars

Take me away

Cover me with your words

Hear me moan

When I die

© September 25th 2004 Elizabeth Prior new intro!!!!

And older poem of mine so you'll understand the "lustful reformation" reference:

[Lustful Reformation]

I see myself shamed by the
slight of my own tongue
As the phone rings in time
with the beating of the heart
of my free will
Nightmares or maybe lustful
dreams of passion spent
love rent and chaos spilled
margaritas slip into my mind
Influencing philosophical debate,
or maybe influencing the passion
burning like a lake of fire
in a very apropos wicked garden
The phone rings to deliver news of evil
that just happens to transcend space
and time and place
with a sort of surreal methodology
and tormenting chimes
that ring and ring and fail to end
as wistful dreams of
passion renewed
fill my weak
coffee infected mind
chaotic Christmas lights
and wilting tinsel
linger softly with a
sorrowless demise
Entwined with the raven's nest
high atop a molten mountain
gazing weakly upon the world below
As yet again the beat of
my heart of freewill
screams causing my mouth to revolt
shaming me yet again
by my own tongue

© March 2004 Elizabeth Prior

Thursday, September 23, 2004

[Opening paragraph]

Whisper daggers in tune with footsteps of knight’s love. Whisper in time with the mermaid’s tears as her sailor leaves. But please don’t cry. The horseshoe tree loves you, and the leaves dance blissfully around you, only hoping to catch you mid-stride and move your feet in time with the soft pitter-patter of rain gently falling on the tin roof of the garden shed; the shed that keeps the tractor dry, and the fresh seedlings from drowning, and washing away; the shed that lurks dangerously close to the hidden bench in your favorite grove of lilacs and aspens that you so fondly named Quaking Aspen when you were 10. The old antique bench that you found in the forest when you were younger ,and very carefully, and with lots of time taken, dragged it out of the woods into the secret grove, which wasn’t so secret since mother always knew where to find us when it was time to weed the garden. The secret grove, Quaking Aspen, had been the spot. It was the place to go when you wanted to write.

So, my little brother got cooler in this past year lol. Just in general. He has become wittier and smarter, and easier to tolerate. I just received his birthday card. My birthday was July 30th, so it's kinda overdue, but that's okay... I still haven't sent him his presants and his birthday was...uhm...whatever day that was.... July 16th.

The card has a cute little brown bear on the front and says,

On your birthday, sis,
I'd just like to remind you,
no matter what,
you'll always have me.
And on the inside:

And if you can overcome that,
you can overcome anything.
Liz, I hope you have
a nice birthday.
Love, Joe

The card is VERY apropos. When we were growing up, he was the devil manifested. He was terrible. He would throw such terrible fits that my mother had to hold him down, literally wrap herself around him, until he calmed down and stopped hurting himself. He's gotten so much cooler. He's a good hockey player (I taught him well) and he's becoming more sarcastic, witty, and bitter. (ShiraWolf & I taught him well on that front)

I was standing in Subway with Mom this evening when she handed me the card. I look down to the card, fidgit it open, sliding my index finger under the flap, and I pull out the card. Flying out of the card, across the Subway dining room, is a quarter. It is a magical quarter you see. It's one of those new-fangled quarters that sprouts wings. He didn't say what the quarter is for, but I know it's in response to the Travis Tritt song, "Here's A Quarter, Call Someone Who Cares" I thought this was worthy of a cpmment, so, I emailed the little bastard:

Due to inflation rates, the price of a phone call has gone up. Instead
of needing a QUARTER to call someone who cares,
you need 2 QUARTERS if it is local,
and 4 QUARTERS if it's long distance.
You jipped me little dude.

Oh, and for the record, I tried to do the "currently playing" thing, but Xangazon is stupid, and isn't locating "Chocolat Soundtrack." Even though Amazon will.

In other news, the Sandia Motor Speedway auction ( has gone up to $3,999,369.00. Impressive, no? It's been valued at over $4 mil, and, well, to be Captain Obvious, they're going to get it. goodness. Did you know if you do a Google for coffee it asks you if you meant to look up Starbucks? How creepy!!

Did you mean: starbucks, coffee and cigarettes, coffee caffeine, tea, or something else?

The Links Of The Night:

Currently Reading: Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly
Read Frank at

^ Me and Frank, Christmas 2001. (I've changed a lot since has he, actually) I was living with his parents that year, my grandparents. His mom, my grandmom, says we look like twins, and this picture is "proof" or something fucked up like that. In those boxes we had huge matching bears. Frank received a hammer set since he wants to go into forging swords, and I received...what did I get? Oh, gourmet cooking oils. Chili oil, balsamic oil, garlic oil, ginger oil, and the such. This picture is titled "twins.jpg" We do look very similar though. We're the same age, with the same natural hair color, and skin tones, etc. It's kinda freaky... One year our nasty evil cousin was visiting, and he was driving us nuts. He's a red-headed step-child, which I find funny as hell knowing that Uncle Mike has a red-headed step-child... it has been a long running joke in the family. He was there...he's probably 2 years younger than me, but annoying as all hell. He's a mama's boy, and nobody in the family likes him, but we put up with him because Mike married the bastard's mother. Anyway, one year, it was in the summer, he was being a little shit and throwing things into the pool like towels and the such... later, upstairs, we were playing video games, and we managed (without any physical contact) convinced him, and my little brother who was also annoying that day, that we were actually twins, and Frank's mom gave my mom me, because Mom lost her baby durring birth.

Frank was and is my best friend. When the red-headed-step-child was there, we would go sit on the roof because that was the only place we could get away from him. After convincing him we were twins, we convinced him, and my brother, that we were lovers, and we wanted to get them into an orgy. We didn't have any physical contact or anything, which just goes to show how well we pulled it off.

fermaylabush: yeah we pulled both on jr at the same time if I remember
squished lizard: yeah, that's what I thought.
fermaylabush: something like "yeah dude we're twins"
"how could you sleep together than"
"Well its like masturbation but better"
squished lizard: lmfao
squished lizard: ew
squished lizard: I remember that.
fermaylabush: yeah that was a good day

We take responsibility for my brother being as fucked up as he is. He was driving us insane for his entire life. Ever since he was born, pretty much. We were 10 years old when we wanted to freak him out about a murder happening at my house, which was out in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere. So we made a paper mache bone. We covered it with fake blood, which we learned how to make because my mother made it for her EMT students, and we burried it in the leaves in the apple orchard. We ran back into the house which was a few acres away, and we said, "JOEY! JOEY! COME LOOK AT WHAT WE FOUND!!!" intending on freaking him out... we dragged him out to the orchard, just in time to see the neighbors dog run off with the bone.

fermaylabush: thats something to put on a resume "once made a paper mache bone so realistic that a dog ran off with it before we could toture child"

While I was living with Frank, we spent a lot of time on the computer. Or really, I was on the computer chatting, and Frank was next to me making comments on what I was saying to my supposed friends. It was going well, and THEN, we found the video camera. The video camera, webcamera, soon became our best friend, and the way to kill murderless time at 4am on a school night. (I didn't sleep when I was in New York... maybe an hour a night....maybe was worth it) We would take the webcam into Sobe bottles, and under the computer desk, which was very messy...lots o dustbunnies....

We did some fucked up things. We went to the Sterling Renn Faire once....4 years ago....the night before it, we stayed up, ALL NIGHT LONG, on one hell of a sugar rush, and invented a language we affectionally called "Wenslowian." We went through gallons of that powdered lemonade shit.... sitting in the kitchen, and taking names off of a map, rearranging the letters, and making our own little language. It was cute, and we even spoke in it for a while because it pissed off Joey, and I was never good at Opp-Talk, or Pig Latin, for that matter, but Pig Latin was fun. Anyway, we lost the papers for Wenslowian, sadly. We get to the Renn Faire, and people are walking around in Three Muskateer's Suits, and armor, and wench costumes...and beggers... you name it. We were just walking around, seeing the sites, which wasn't very impressive, and a man walks up next to us, with pretzles on a stick. Hot pretzles. Yummy, I'm sure. He was walking around screaming, "TWISTED PRETZLES!!! Get your twisted pretzles! Don't you want to be twisted?! TWISTED PEOPLE HAVE MORE FUN." Frank and I were next to him at the time, and we looked at each other, and nodded in agreement. He turned to us, and asked me if I wanted a pretzle, and I said, "No thanks." He shook his stick above my head, and salt fell down upon me, and he said, "You have just been 'asalted.' TWISTED PRETZLES! Don't you want to be TWISTED? TWISTED PEOPLE HAVE MORE FUN...." as he went on his merry way.

Halloween was always fun at the Wenslow house. We usually did something to scare Joey. A few years back we talked his parents into going away, so we had the house in total darkness, and Joey came over. Walking up the stairs from the basement after letting Joey in, I ran up, and hid around the corner to where the bathroom is... Joey walked up, slowly, carefully, calling my name, and I reached out, every-so-carefully, and grabbed his ankle. He screamed, and jumped a mile, and fell backwards on Frank. If Frank wasn't there, Joey would have gone tumbling down the stairs to the concrete doom below. We continued on up to the 3rd floor to Frank's little room/living area...walking up the stairs, Frank just vanished. Not even I knew where he was. I was walking up in front of Joey, and Joey was a few steps behind me. Then suddenly out of nowhere, Frank jumps down from the landing, and lands right between me and Joey, and starts growling. lmfao. Joey screamed and fell down the stairs. He didn't get hurt, and 3 minutes later he was laughing about it, but I could have sworn he pissed his pants.

Ah, halloween... I was going to go as a pirate wench, but fuck that. I'm going gypsy.....

LOL. Operation Imitation Poo. We combined a whole bunch of shit together, cocoa, toothpaste, soap, flour, name it, and put it in a tupperware container, and named it, Operation Imitation Poo. Sadly, however, it wouldn't settle, so we stuck it in the snow, and it was very solid, but very jello-like at the same time. Creepy stuff. We hid it behind some books in the office. This was at least 3 years ago. Frank tells me his mom found it.

fermaylabush: well operation imitation poo is standing still
squished lizard: Really?
fermaylabush: ma found the bowl. and it stunk like soap
squished lizard: Is it stinky?
squished lizard: lol
squished lizard: lmfao
fermaylabush: and now the bowl stinks like soap
fermaylabush: so we can't eat out of it
squished lizard: lmfao
squished lizard: what did we put in it?
fermaylabush: so she threw it out
squished lizard: aw
fermaylabush: I think it was old tupperware
squished lizard: yeah
fermaylabush: yeah so we will have to remake it in gladware without the recipe cause I don't remember where I stashed that

I think it was inspired by the glass of nasty chocolate milk that Frank set on top of a bookshelf and 6 months later, it had turned rock hard, and wouldn't come out of the glass, so we launched it into the neighbors yard.

Tuesday, September 21, 2004

What a gift that must be.... to be timeless. To be ethereal, surreal, passionate longing dispassionate craves... Timeless. That is something to aspire to, and "It's a fine goal, to be sure" but wouldn't you think, suppose, JUST SUPPOSE, that it matters what I feel?

No, I don't have any self doubt...I don't know where you would get that idea....silly people.

No, really, I don't. I don't doubt myself. I'm actually one of the few things that I have faith in. What I do doubt, is how much I matter. But the fact that to myself, I don't really matter, resolves the issue right then and there.

"Beloved, till life can charm no more; and mourned, till Pity's self be dead" ~ William Collins

To be dead, to be dead. Something we all desire...something we all crave. To be dead, to be lost, to be forever lonesome, wandering. I try to get lost, I try to wander. I try to mourn my thoughts, and I try to mourn my past self-- The concept of who I was, as opposed to the reality of who I am. Pity's self shall always fall. It shall fall from our selves, our enemies, and our lovers. It should cease until it can cease no more, and crumble to the inner depths of Hell, and Heaven, and Earth alike, to wake, lonely, wandering, and forgotten...haunting the inner depths of our minds, and our spirits.

"Beloved, till life can charm no more" Beloved, fountain pen words cling to you, lying in your bed of rain, dear beloved. Is it possible for life to stop charming you? Is it possible for everything to hault, and fall, and crumble and mourn endlessly, enigmatically...waiting, whispering, lonely, it possible for everything to charm you no more, dearest. Is it possible for you to be charmed... to be charmed until your self is gone? Or is that a dream? A mere image, a myth lingering softly, slowly, independently in the back of my mind? A myth that is self-sustaining...independent of my thought, my soul, and my beloved...a myth independent of me, but nonetheless, a myth that defines me...fullfills my soul, and replenishes my spirit, when it is lost, wandering, forgotten, and lonely...

I don't know where to begin. I've been overwhelmed lately. Not consumed, mind you, but overwhelmed. Life is peachy! ... you betcha.

Actually, I can't complain. Life is pretty good...just minor annoyances here and there. I'm doing pretty well, all things considered. I'm happier... I've been happier since August 10th, then I have in a long time. (Yes, I know the fucking date....I did some thinking that kinda actually changed things)

I FOUND IT!!!! It all makes sense.... if only I could explain.

When I was younger, I was the kid that nobody wanted to play with. I was the four-eyed trailer hic, and the fact that I didn't live in a trailer at all was of little to no importance to the children in my town. I was 7. I would sit alone on the swings at school, writing, drawing, and the other children would throw rocks at me, laugh at me, poke fun at me, and when I got up, and ran to my secret hiding place inside one of the wooden towers of the playground, I was called a "chicken."

It all stems back to that.

At the time I was lonely...I was anxious, I was afraid, and I was wistful. But now that I look back, it was the spawn of my creative processes... it was the beginning of the creative endeavours that would come to shape my life, and my soul. It was the beginning... and it was the end.

With the evolution of our spirits, our souls, and our minds, is it possible to lose part of us? Is it possible to lose ourselves? Is it possible to fall, and crash, and sing no more to the eternal happiness that shines only from the inside? Or do we truly evolve? Do we stand on the tiny little ledge of ourselves, of our minds, and gaze out upon ourselves, and view everything within us? Everything we are?

Everything we are, everything in me, wants to be the one you wanted me to be. I would never let you down...even if I could. I'd give up everything, if only for your good, so love me when I'm here, right me when I'm wrong, hold me when I'm scared, I won't always be here, so love me when I'm gone...

Monday, September 20, 2004

"Gimme Three Steps" ~ Lynyrd Skynyrd

I was cutting the rug
Down at a place called the jug
With a girl named linda lu
When in walked a man
With a gun in his hand
And he was looking for you know who.
He said, ’hey there fellow,
With the hair colored yellow,
Watcha tryin’ to prove?
’cause that’s my woman there
And I’m a man who cares
And this might be all for you.’

I was scared and fearing for my life.
I was shakin’ like a leaf on a tree.
’cause he was lean, mean,
Big and bad, lord,
Pointin’ that gun at me.
I said, ’wait a minute, mister,
I didn’t even kiss her.
Don’t want no trouble with you.
And I know you don’t owe me
But I wish you’d let me
Ask one favor from you.’

’won’t you give me three steps,
Gimme three steps mister,
Gimme three steps towards the door?
Gimme three steps
Gimme three steps mister,
And you’ll never see me no more.’

Well the crowd cleared away
And I began to pray
As the water fell on the floor.
And I’m telling you son,
Well, it ain’t no fun
Staring straight down a forty-four.
Well he turned and screamed at linda lu
And that’s the break I was looking for.
And you could hear me screaming a mile away
As I was headed out towards the door.


What can I say? I'm a Born Again Hic.

Currently Playing: Lynyrd Skynyrd - All Time Greatest Hits
- Gimme Three Steps
"Peace rules the day, where reason rules the mind" ~ William Wilkie Collins

I look around the world, and I wonder what it is coming to. Why this is happening, and why things are going the way they are, but at the same time, I know that this cannot be helped. This is just the way things are. It's the course that we are supposed to run. Everybody is obsessed with this notion of "peace" even Madonna, who went to "The Holy Land" to give a speech about it. There is not going to be peace with the world, and with each other, until we have peace with ourselves. It's just a fact. Haiti is undergoing natural disasters, and the South Korean president is colaborating with the Russian president Vladimir Putin to discuss the North Korean nuclear crisis.

Everywhere I look, it is nothing but nuclear crisis, and Middle East hatred. I don't like what I see when I look at the world, but by the same token, I don't really care either.

And in the news:

The Sandia Motor Speedway is for sale on Ebay:

Oh, so, yeah, speaking of peace: I want these.

I love throwing knives. I remember when Frank and I were playing with them in the backyard, and I sucked mooly (insert rude sexual term here) at first, but then I got pretty accurate... I miss them.

My hair is so dirty, I took my hair clip out, and it stayed exactly in place. How icky is that?!

Edward and I went to see "Wicker Park" tonight...fucked up movie!!! It's weird, and kinda creepy, and sadistic. (Of course I liked it)

Currently Playing: Deprogramming
- Ramadan Mirador