| (no subject) |
[Dec. 7th, 2008|09:04 am] |
o Last Christmas Black Peter Locked me in a closet for 8 hours. I kicked and banged at the door and he admonished to spank me with his magical tire iron. When he finally let me out I was relieved. but within moment's after being freed from my entrapment, Sinterklass'es little lackey decides that he wants to feed me moth balls. A huge bowl of them. I say no. Black Peter said yes, and that I have to chew them as if they were sweet peppermints. So I chewed, and I chewed. Black Peter is fastidious little fellow though, he wants more. So he tells me to whistle camp town races, note for note with the chewed up mothballs in my mouth. By now I've had enough and run away from him, but soon the indefatigable little dwarf catches up to me. Now I've gone too far; and this is when Sinterklass exits stage right. Sinter Klass who is on his eight legged horse named Googaw comes galloping our way. Sinterklass who is of a sour disposition (you can tell from behind his bushy white countenance) that he is not pleased. His brow is beetled, and deep furrows can be discerned on his forehead. For those who don't know, Sinterklass carrys with him always a frozen leg of mutton, and when children misbehave he thrashes them relentlessly with it. Boy did he belabor me with that leg of mutton! I fainted after a few minutes, my head hit the pavement making a sound likened to a watermelon being punched. Then came the reprimanding; "You know now that being a bad boy all year will lead to this, and next time the conquensences will be tenfolds of what they have been. I may just take you back with me to Rockland County!"
"Yes Sinterklass..."
"Alright Sinterklass..."
"Ok Sinterklass..."
And so, twas was my experience last Christmas. What did I do that was so bad? many things; I ate too much fudge, I even clandestinely snook spoons of sugar from my Mother's cupboard. Thirdly,I never paid for my late fees at Joe's Video.
Merry Christmas.
Be good...
-Kurt |
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| A doody on a white rug |
[Jul. 13th, 2008|10:52 am] |
Welp, It's been a while
It's summer time, 2008. I went on vacation with my girlfriend and my family to North Carolina in June and it was A lot of fun. We went parasailing, checked out some old plantations (did you know that there all golf courses now?, who would've thought?)- Me and my brother got into a fight about socks on the car ride there. I know, I know it sounds funny but we came to a final conclusion; I wear big socks, he wears small. No no, I don't want to hear you sniggering to yourself- this is no reference to an old phallic wise tale. When it comes down to it, Little Clint Blake wears socks that are below his ankles, his Big Brother Kurt Blake Wears socks that stretch up more, towards the knees. This resolution speaks volumes, and describes me and my brother, and our relationship to a T. North Carolina was nice, and I miss the beach and lying on it with Miss Shoetree- talking about whatever, and enjoying our company under the warm sun and tepid water.
I still have no job but I've been working to find one. My neighbor's been helping me try to get a job in Voice Acting. I recorded a voice demo, and she sent it to a few people that she used to work with. One of them is a guy named Charles Mintz, who apparently did the voice of the Kool Aide Man in the late 80s-90's. I've only spoken to him through email,he seems like a nice guy though. He does vocal training and we've been talking about him doing some training with me, so who knows? maybe the Kool Aide Man is gonna be my Master. I'm working on touching up my radio demo now, and I'm still not giving up with that either. Hopefully I'll have a job very soon, but meanwhile I'm being patient and enjoying the summer. |
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| (no subject) |
[Feb. 6th, 2008|12:19 am] |
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Yes this is my first LIVEJOURNAL entry I've written in quite some time, and NO, don't worry everythings fine.My philosophy is that words that are written here (on this lovely incriment of the devil), the internet are written in stone in some sence.It's like a doody on white rug-It's never going to rub off. no matter how hard you keep trying to assimilate it with wet paper towls,and scream and yell that It's never going to go away, It's never going to go away.Words that come out of the filthy human visage are silver-but silence is gold. I learned that from a wise Dutchman-But It's high time, I need speak. A rather wry, sick fellow has been leaving cryptic messages on my friend John "The cool dude" Nolan's LIVEJOURNAL. I take it this fellow sits in front of a computer screen all day, plucking his pubes out of boredom, but that's none of my business. Sir, please stop with the codswallop, or where going to have to meet you out back by the dumpster at Micheal's arts and crafts store. We don't want to have to do that. Good day. |
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| Docter's journal |
[Nov. 16th, 2007|06:18 am] |
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The operation was a successful one.I need speak of it. We embarked on serveral interesting discovery's. The patients small intestines were a dusky blue, motteled with a phosphorescent neon greenish hue. The liver was filled with dutch chocolate.Both the kidneys, to our galvanising suprise were swollen; inside of them 2 keys, to which my doctors are now figuring out what doors they unlock. Last but not least, is the exotic treassure we found in this male patient's bladder; a human embryo containing a fetus with a golden tooth. |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 5th, 2007|11:03 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  thoughtful | ] |
I woke up this morning and the sunlight poked through the openings of my window shades. beckoning me, the sun it seemed. Beckoning me to go outside and bathe in its rich golden rays of purity. I got up, but first I felt I needed to brush my teeth. Doing so I realized that my cat had taken a smoldering load inside my mouth while I was sleeping. It was then the telephone rang. It was Micheal, my Brother who studies abroad in Brussels. With a muffeled voice from the emmense ammount of shit cramed in my mouth, I told him i could not speak to him. He understood , but said he needed to tell me somthing. It was about Ernesto. He was ran over by a train sometime near day break. I hung up the phone and took one good look in the mirror. There was my reflection, my eyes; laden with tears. I counted each one. I cried exactly 96 tears, and then I turned on the radio- Question mark and the Mysterios were on. They were playing there song, 96 tears. |
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| The Bee Movies Reveiw |
[Nov. 4th, 2007|12:46 pm] |
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Well, let me tell you. BEE WARE, because the be movie is BEE-u-tiful portrial of bees of the 21st century. A cunning young worker Bee played by Jerry SeinFeld (that i assume is of semetic origin) becomes a laywer and sues humans for stealing bees honey and selling it, without there notoriety. Meanwhile, this bee is having an affair with a HUMAN voiced by rene zelwiger, who helps mr. bee win the case. Let me tell you, if i caught my girlfriend having an affair with a bee i'd probaly BEE really PEEVED and BEEMUSED as well (i've heard of women having affairs with horses and cows, but BEES? But none the less, this movie was BEETASTIC |
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| Words from the bird |
[Jul. 2nd, 2007|11:07 pm] |
The fish in my beak,
says "Its sunny with no rain",
yet the bird of my brain says "It isnt quite the same" |
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| (.)(.)'s |
[Jul. 1st, 2007|08:40 pm] |
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I dont like leaving periods at the ends of sentences on the internet really, or even off the internet,I always feel like It gives off the impression, that a person is full of shit, when they do, but all words must end in sentences, so i guess there is really no choice. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 8th, 2007|12:14 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  indescribable | ] |
i couldnt sleep, i slupt till 11 and then i wake up now. my fat ponch is filled with ice cream. life is good. im going to miss shoe tree's ball tommarow. |
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| day dream |
[May. 14th, 2007|11:33 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  silly | ] |
First i am egyptain baboon, and im climbing around in the woods behind my house, theres sounds of leaves, and junko's chirping in an old cigar tree. I can smell the smokey scent of neighbor oldman Smitty's woodstove as it rises into the clouds that look so close that i can almost reach them with the tip of my tounge. I progress farther through the thick leaved maples and oaks, farther into the woods. i stop and sit on a branch of a 60 foot tall evergreen and i look down upon a golden field of wheat. There is a negroid man sitting in the middle of it and hes witteling a stick with his jack knife. as if his head was made of liquid i dive straight into it from above, i sink for a very long time. Now im in a room that looks like a docters office, and a group of beetle browed men approach me and play me a song on harmonicas. after they are finnished they gleam at me with teeth that look as sharp as ice sickles. they push me into a corner of the room, and suddenely i find that behind a portrait of the greek god Pripus, there is a door. alas; salvation i walk through it and progress through many narrow plastic tunnels which lead to the edenic world of muldoon, where men puff cigarettes like gompus'es and eat chicken fingers and toes till there tipid hearts are content and descend from there tombs made of playdough with 2 holes cut at the bottoms so able to walk. the dough is caked with eyelashes, feathers, dirt, bric a' brac that accumlated over the years. the sun is just about to come over the horizen, its heat hardens these strange coffins until they crack, and like new born chicks they are born once again |
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| Mothers day |
[May. 13th, 2007|09:28 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | quixotic | ] |
this day goes out to all the matron's that have snot upon there aprons,
these bilious green nuggets should be considered relics of heroism for they have gone through something far more worse than war, and that my friends is the bitter sweet process of procreation;getting you out of from the dark and narrow grotto between there legs. give ya maman a kiss! :{} |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 10th, 2007|08:34 pm] |
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hey im going to san fransico, anyone going out that way? |
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| intwined in the vines of a shoetree |
[May. 6th, 2007|01:03 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  mellow | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Neil Young- Philidelphia | ] |
its nice, when you leave your mini van lights on in a parking lot and you got someone to come with you to shut them off, then to forget to shut them off, and then come out and try the whole bit again... |
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| Theories |
[Apr. 4th, 2007|04:19 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  bored | ] |
A)George Washington was the first, and will be the last president of the United States; he will ascend from the sky on a giant bald eagle. The eagle's name will be Trusty, and Trusty will tear certain persons from limb to limb with his beak and claw's of great vigor.
B)'Deer Park' brand bottled water is taken from Mars'es polar ice caps. This will soon let on when parasitic bacteria from the caps, when digested will metamorphisize humans into enormous sleeping dogs, with lungs filled with gold. Ironically most of the population that will consume the water will be from California, leading to the next great gold rush-differing at the aspect that the prospectors will be surgical doctors with proper medicinal equiptment to obtain these findings. |
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| Goupils Day Dreams at a Sales Meeting |
[Apr. 3rd, 2007|11:50 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | silly | ] |
"What do you think of computers?"
"Well, I think they kinda look like boxes"
"Very observant old man, but you know well that there is more to that"
"I know very well theres more to that, I just wish they weren’t. I wish they were never made"
"Ok, well take it easy, lets talk about nice things, like sunshine and stuff"
"I hate having to fold my mirror down in the car on the drive home, it’s a bother"
" Blue skies?"
"Natures numerous ways of agitating a man, after he's well and used to cloudy ones"
"What do you like?"
"There’s not a lot I do like. When I was young I wish'd I was old so I’d have an excuse for my bitterness."
"Do you regret you ever fancied that idea?"
"No. I was bitter then, and I’m bitter now, ill be bitter always"
"Look at that young intern over there, he looks kinda like you do"
"I see it, when I see him hunched over at the fileing cabinet. I see me then and now."
"Do you think there's hope for the sprout?"
"In his case and mine, it would take some sort of mystifying encounter to change one's way of thought, like how it was in the Christmas Carol kind of, or in It’s a Wonderful Life. I always thought if some Ghost or Angel visited me in the night like that, it'd make me good. It's only in books though.
“Yes, only in books. The true key to reaching self enlightenment requires a lot more than the ghost of Christmas past knocking at your door. You’ve got to find it yourself.”
“Too Lazy to...”
“Alright then, no problem.” |
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| Goupils |
[Mar. 28th, 2007|01:34 pm] |
It was Mr. Goupils wake:
There he lay in his coffin made of looseleaf paper and staples, with a sallow and hallowed face-though his complexion wasnt what you'd call superfluous to begin with. The room was constructed of four even sized walls, white washed. There stood blubbering business buddys from Goupil's & Goupilstien. The crowd was very slim, but consisted of zealous employees and close associates of the great and late tycoon.
"He... was born along with 3 telephones, with clients from London,Holland, and Japan- all on hold." Said Franny Toloth as she faltered between setences horning into her hankey
"If you were to ground Goupils bones, what you would find would be pencil shreddings and coffee grinds-what we have lost here is a man with a great mind... and the heart of a paper weight", voiced a beetle-browed/mustached old fellow with great lament in his tone.
A few more small words were uttered on behalf of the old cruthers ,and then a clergyman walked in(clad in traditional fashion that one might probaly imagine a clergyman to usually wear). He said a few "oh holys"and a few "mens"and right when he was about to say the last of his bit Goupils casket began to wiggle a bit.Only a few people noticed at first but then the whole lot of them did, and they all became opauge and bewildered with fear, there mouths all wide like trouts. Long Yellow fingernails began peirceing through the top of the thin pulpy tomb and soon out jumped Mr. Goupils himself;a white phosfrate-like substance oozing grostequely from his mouth-is eyes a sangiune red. Women fell faint,there husbands catching them by there shoulders. This made Goupils let out a roaring fit of laughter. He took a candle from the service and lit the coffin on fire, stamping on the ashes almost as if he were tap dancing. The room had been evacuated, and this was satisfaction to him "You won't see good ol' Goopz pushing up daisys anytime soon I tell you!" With that he clicked his heals and floated out an open window into the nightsky; his spirit then not bound to the heavens or the ground below it. That's just how Mr. Gregory Goupils always wanted it. |
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| (no subject) |
[Mar. 11th, 2007|12:08 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  happy | ] |
"papers set with the plastics they told me"
when i got there it was like a paper rouge of ones divine dolly's. a vesage baisted in dryed out mud, and fraises. The castle stood 5'X5' by an old soda tree that had never been kissed. When i entered the Count stabbed me with all the robust he had been saving for the cold winter ahead. i was smoted between the eyes with the splinters of his favorite onion trunk. it was aloof like a hoof of a suckling, and that wasnt even the best part... it was mr. Goupils birthday, and the only one who showed up wasn't Prince Broths bride's maid!
(bewildered by the quivering belfontaques who had been captured, all eloquent with there lovely powdered bellys caked in sweet jellys) |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 13th, 2006|04:01 am] |
My friend Raymond ate his son, tottaly engulfed him the other night. when i stoped over to his house, there was nothing left but some lurid remains the next morning...
i dont understand why he would eat his own son,
its all he had left |
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| Christmas List |
[Dec. 11th, 2006|04:49 am] |
One chocolate covered/ dead / awardwinning Horse
A box of navels with intricate diamonds glued to there skins in symetrical like patterns
Dyamite confined at The U.S South American Embassy
Photos of the young and later Heady Lamour, preferbly in the nude |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 7th, 2006|05:20 am] |
I don't know what will happen tommarow, maybe nothing, maybe ill wake up as i do everyday, drag myself out of bed, get dressed. Smoke a bogie. Drink a sugery energy drink that I purchase from the gas station
Maybe ill wake up come morning, lying next to a pregnant hog named Fransine and say "What the hell happened last night?"
The chances are pretty slim, but who knows? the night is young |
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pelicansmelican's journal