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giantess
Saturday, May 22 1999
As we walked back from the store with cream cheese and other weekend breakfast necessities, Kim and I came upon lots of stray sidewalk graffiti, seemingly written in henna. I soon determined that the writing had been done using the fruits of a thorny bush growing in a dense row between the sidewalk and the Appletree supermarket parking lot. I'd tasted these unknown fruits before, and had found them sweet and tasty, yet I'd refrained from eating them for fear of possible toxins. Today, inspired by the graffiti artists who had come before, I added to the sidewalk art. Unfortunately, the bright red ink in each fruit was only good for about three or four readable letters, so I was limited in terms of what I could say. As anyone who's ever tried to get back at the Man with a vanity license plate can attest, it's awfully hard to compose biting, nuanced social satire in four characters or less.
Macrophilia. It's a sexual-preference phenomenon in which men experience fetishistic desire towards women of great physical stature. I'm not talking seven feet tall; the women appreciated by Macrophiliacs are many times larger than actually exist in the real world and as such a Macrophiliac's sexual satisfaction can only take place within the realm of fantasy. Click on the picture above to find out more; there's a whole article about Macrophiliacs in the latest Salon. By the way, though I'm not a macrophiliac myself, I find the notion that macrophiliacs exist kind of touching, even (dare I say it) cute. Strangely, knowledge of their existence gives me hope for mankind.
This shit reads almost exactly like my Witchcraft Flyer, but the scary thing is that it's not satire. How about this for a piece of technology writing:
After the Internet was installed [sic], police arrested a
13-year-old boy for attempting to molest a 4-year-old in the Phoenix Public Library bathroom.
Rory, mate, your writing is improving now that you've gone off the happy pills. A little suffering is always necessary for the making of good art.
In the afternoon, Kim and I went up to Pacific Beach to attend the housewarming party of my boss, the Director of Web Development. Other than he and his wife, we were the only ones there. We sat around watching the Lakers-Spurs game on the big teevee (you can imagine how much I enjoyed that!) and sipping beers. Eventually other co-workers drifted over, all of them a good bit older than me, surprisingly enough. Kim had to go to work at 4:00pm, so we split some time before then.
In the bathtub this afternoon, I found myself wondering if any devoutly Catholic scientists had ever tested transubstantiated wine to see if it contained blood cells.
For linking purposes this article's URL is:
http://asecular.com/blog.php?990522 feedback
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