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peculiar smells and how to stop them

picture being in a familiar room, a room you know and love, a room you often frequent. only one thing has the potentiality of destroying your nice, little room–not a stack of vintage pornos, not a big pile of shoes, not a life-size sculpture of Larry King–but a peculiar smell.

the stench of something askew throws the entire room askance.

the smell could be a slow, festering, low note that is almost indecipherable from the usual culprits of dirty laundry and cat litter box. it is there, however, because it proliferates your possessions and soon you take on this slight stench. your friends can smell it when they enter your hovel but they do not call attention because you stimulate them with your witty banter and generosity with gins. soon you carry the fetor to your car and your office. it becomes your most distinguishable characteristic.

or, the smell could be a sharp, piercing, foreign slap in the face that hits you when you open the refrigerator after leaving 4 lbs of beef hearts in a faulty tupperware and refrigerator water mingles with blood and colonies of green fuzz are established. pungent, easily allayed, and yet annoyingly lingering, like that girl you met on the bus who went home with you after seeing you adjust your sock garters.

the most annoying peculiar smells creep up on you suddenly–you come home after a long day of tapestry-weaving and your garbage can has turned into a nasty terrarium, spewing whiffs of gunk and yuck since you left for tapestry-weaving not more than 5 hours ago.

are these odors preventable? in short, no. but they can be somewhat rectified through this home remedy passed down through my family: take 3 oxtails and afix them to your tuckis. wearing nothing but oxtails, a fanny pack and three wise men flag down the nearest bear trap with your mind and then consume 5 tins of Fancy Feast. Problem will be solved in no less than 3 hours. Enjoy!

-AR

Posted in Annette at May 21st, 2009.

the things that get me interested

Hello,

these are the things that get me excited.

pork. I like how it is a large animal that bellows and then you cut it up and eat it. it eats garbage and screams when you pick it up. I like porks.

beeves. I also like beeves. mostly the name. they look at you with that nice, blank stare that’s a mixture of “i want to kill you” and “I love you, master”.

peafowl. They are the most magnanimous of birds. so regal. they mate by intimidation. the cock is all “im looking at you with my many eyes - you cannot escape” and the hen is all “ahhhhh im so horny!?!!!!”

bamboo flooring. It’s soooooooo white. and like a cutting board. so clean and german.

that is all for now as i have to go to a party.

Posted in Kieran at May 20th, 2009.

Panthers or Cat Fizz?

θxen. Þeebles. Σrma. ρantone color books. βurnish. πewsboy. κrill. ψanton. ©ryv. Γuckus. σrangina. Ξclaire.

-ÅΓ

Posted in Annette at May 20th, 2009.

Do the right shoe. sex the left shoe.

hello.

one day i decided to ride a tandem bicycle. But instead there was a lady watering some cement.
so i returned to HPM headquarters full of questions.
they responding by pelting me with “WRITE A BLOG ABOUT CYBORGS!!”
but. why? i dont particularly have any interest in writing about cyborgs. at least not every day. and today is my day off [of cyborgs]
after much discussion they instructed me to write about lettuce and William instead. this is not much more interesting. they are both meek and mild. and in case you dont  William, he tastes like stale sausage. and lettuce? also stale sausage.
now they are berating me with ideals that converse are the only shoes that matter. although converse are mighty nice, what about other kinds of shoes? like river boots. and dancing clogs. and snow heels. but never heelys.
chicken feet are not shoes. moon boots are only for the moon.
crazy paisly does not equal a kind of shoe. perhaps they are socks. thigh high socks. or thigh high sneakers.
can aprons be shoes? only if they hold spurs on the back. or sock garders. up to the bra. velcro bra.
hand shoes certainly do make sense, only when you are an amputee.  or a bowler.
lots of dancers wear shoes. like tap shoes. and ballet shoes. and shoes made of fish.
or shoes made out of fabric that go on top of other shoes to make them look different.
krocs arent shoes. they are full of dirty hippie soles.

-JF

Posted in Jenny at May 20th, 2009.

just got the blog up and running

well, it’s not like i did any of the work. I just yoinked a theme that looked like what i had in mind and changed it to suit my needs. the good people of wordpress also helped a little. thank you, those guys.

i’m glad im joining the internet now, and not 3 years ago so i don’t have to wrestle with codemonsters or drink a lot of spazz and listen to my programming mix which consists of darude, aphex twin and europe.

we will soon be giving you much you haven’t seen before in the way of blogs and opinions.

stay tuned.

Posted in Kieran at May 20th, 2009.

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