so i googled stinky towels because i am having a horrid time with this problem. a fresh towel out of the dryer, folded and used the next day, the moment it touches my face and gets wet, it smells like ASS. Its nasty and can barely stomach drying myself off at all.
for awhile i would only bleach my towels with no soap, then a second wash in hot hot water with soap AND bleach. It helps but nothing lasts longer than a month or 2. I have a newish front loader and rotate all my soap brands.
I think i will try a vinegar load. i think its in the softner cycle....
we shall see.....
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Friday, April 11, 2008
I Dream in Greens
I was in an old trailor, a really delapidated dank and cold trailor.
i think it was a single wide for those who care or can tell the difference.
i remember orange stripes on the wallpaper and the floors were covered in rumpled material, not necessarily clothes, but balled up dirty cloth. Everywhere I stepped, something stuck to my shoes. My mom tells me most of the aunts my grandma talked about were made up. "Remember aunt so & so?" Then mom makes that crazy sign by her temple with her finger.
What are we looking for? Dennis yells from downstairs to come and look.
We climb over these heaps of material and bear the weird stench coming from the doorway we are approaching. Its dark but I hear my moms shoes going down the stairs in the dark in front of me so i follow by feel. The walls are moist and slightly give under my touch. The steps beneath my shoes feel flexible and cluttered with stuff too. Dennis turns on a flashlight, waiting at the last stair, and illuminates this huge cavern we are now creeping in. The stairs drop off into nowhere so i freeze.
It seems we are in an underground landfill of sorts beneath my grandmas trailor.
How in the hell did this get like this? And the garbage heap is HUGE! If i had fallen off these stairs down into this dump, it would have been a 30 foot drop. I turn and rush back up the stairs and stumble out the front door.
As I am bent over with my hands on my knees to steady my queasiness, I hear the ocean waves thundering across the street.
Mist cools my sickness and I walk to the railing. The alcove of crashing ocean water is full of life. I see a narwhale beneath this green water. I remember how green and cold this water was. I look out to my left and the prickly ocean spans out father than I can see, but there are a few ice floes drifting slowly.
On my right is an abandoned lighthouse, no doors or windows because the water has swelled from the melting of glaciers and the lighthouse feels every inch.
Water crashes ever so often, through the house, both upstairs and down, washing its floors with frigid green water. I look down for my narwhale again and he is gone. But a brown bear is struggling, screaming , knowing he is dying and exhausted and sinking. I see a killer whale rounding him briskly.
Dennis comes out of the trailor and suggestes a trip through the lighthouse. We are in its slippery main room, and you can feel the rumbling of a wave reaching toward us. We rush out the door and like a game of hide and seek, hide behind some pillars out front and watch the water pour into the street. I remember us laughing even. But it wasn't cold out.
We walk back to the alcove but by a steet lamp base, the severed skull of the brown bear lay bleeding, mouth still agape, eyes dead. We look over the rail and one enormous beast has a thin strip of water between its back and us. I have never imagined something so behemoth before, and it gelled with the ocean and slid away.
I shivered.
i think it was a single wide for those who care or can tell the difference.
i remember orange stripes on the wallpaper and the floors were covered in rumpled material, not necessarily clothes, but balled up dirty cloth. Everywhere I stepped, something stuck to my shoes. My mom tells me most of the aunts my grandma talked about were made up. "Remember aunt so & so?" Then mom makes that crazy sign by her temple with her finger.
What are we looking for? Dennis yells from downstairs to come and look.
We climb over these heaps of material and bear the weird stench coming from the doorway we are approaching. Its dark but I hear my moms shoes going down the stairs in the dark in front of me so i follow by feel. The walls are moist and slightly give under my touch. The steps beneath my shoes feel flexible and cluttered with stuff too. Dennis turns on a flashlight, waiting at the last stair, and illuminates this huge cavern we are now creeping in. The stairs drop off into nowhere so i freeze.
It seems we are in an underground landfill of sorts beneath my grandmas trailor.
How in the hell did this get like this? And the garbage heap is HUGE! If i had fallen off these stairs down into this dump, it would have been a 30 foot drop. I turn and rush back up the stairs and stumble out the front door.
As I am bent over with my hands on my knees to steady my queasiness, I hear the ocean waves thundering across the street.
Mist cools my sickness and I walk to the railing. The alcove of crashing ocean water is full of life. I see a narwhale beneath this green water. I remember how green and cold this water was. I look out to my left and the prickly ocean spans out father than I can see, but there are a few ice floes drifting slowly.
On my right is an abandoned lighthouse, no doors or windows because the water has swelled from the melting of glaciers and the lighthouse feels every inch.
Water crashes ever so often, through the house, both upstairs and down, washing its floors with frigid green water. I look down for my narwhale again and he is gone. But a brown bear is struggling, screaming , knowing he is dying and exhausted and sinking. I see a killer whale rounding him briskly.
Dennis comes out of the trailor and suggestes a trip through the lighthouse. We are in its slippery main room, and you can feel the rumbling of a wave reaching toward us. We rush out the door and like a game of hide and seek, hide behind some pillars out front and watch the water pour into the street. I remember us laughing even. But it wasn't cold out.
We walk back to the alcove but by a steet lamp base, the severed skull of the brown bear lay bleeding, mouth still agape, eyes dead. We look over the rail and one enormous beast has a thin strip of water between its back and us. I have never imagined something so behemoth before, and it gelled with the ocean and slid away.
I shivered.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
methan - tooth - pick - a - me
i think i just broke a tooth
a fake tooth on a cra-a-a-zy cornnut!
i love BBQ...mmm. so i just got home
its 11:45 pm from the Alanis Morissette & Matchbox 20 concert, and although i didnt show it, i had an awesome time! i think miss morissette was fantastic and shorter than i thought, and my god she has some lovely lady lumps, as she parodied tonight... her ass is gi-NOR-mous.... looks good on her too.
now, yes i am an ass, i dont know the first thing about matchbox twenty, i think i actually mixed them up with candlebox, another lame pop/rock band...
anyhoo, the guy starts singing and i realize its rob thomas. duh. i actually like rob thomas. but i only knew 2 songs in the 2 hours i sat there without a grin or smile on my face. i did chat with my man and make fun of people all over the place! christ i cant believe the freaks that came out tonight.
the weird thing - i felt like i was sucked out of the bubble for a moment and i saw my old self through different eyes - the eyes of "them". the feeling you get when youre with a friend you actually enjoy and dont care what other people think? you know....
well, there were these girls next to us, screaming, jumping and singing within centimeters of each others stinking mouths. actually happy and completely naive of people soaking in their oiblivion.
everyone around us was jumping and flailing so frantically for this "matchbox 20", i was sure we would be shown on one of those "amazing videos " - on whatever lame channel -the weight of these sows and oxen - forcing the bleachers down down down, slamming all my fat and body parts in between the sharp and chopping metal structure that would become my ginsu coffin.
so this show started with some band we missed on purpose. so i guess we skipped it. anyway, we just made alanis by a moment, and i sat in silent wonder at her voice and adorable "dance" moves. she is SO cute! she is really very wiggly. at one point she just kept spinning in a cirlce for like a minute, i was sure she would flop down , moaning like an autistic boy, but she quit spinning, staggered a little bit and kept on - without unwinding the spin! my god, she is INhuman, she is YETI. cuz we all know only a yeti can do that.
she says thanks and leaves the stage, and everyone starts that stomping and hooting. then, like a mother nipping a tantrum in the bud properly, the events center flashed on the lights and dropped a mammoth black drape down over the stage. everyone fell quiet and a hush of stupid swept from one end of the arena to the other. people felt DENIED. can you encore an opening act? i guess you CAN but will they come back out? she di’int.
people start an awkward trek to somewhere; feeling the need to do something - socialize? pee? slosh more liquor down your gullet?
then i spot HER. with her man in the bright orange shirt. a clearing grows around them as her shiny purple spandex pants attract attention like a lighthouse to ship - calling the pigs to port. and then Prince’s KISS song comes on... (guitar strumming insanely fast and a loud UH!) she vaults from her chair in a humping motion, grinding and gyrating her pretend pole, and her man slides back in his lawn chair, drapes his arm over her chair and watches her as if she’s his personal dancer.he realizes she is drawing many stares and he eats it up, nodding to everyone with a molesto - smile as if to say "yeah, yuns can look all ya want, she’s ALL MINE"....
a good few minutes roll by and me and den are chatting it up about her, life and torn socks. we are facing her, we are sitting up midway on the side of this arena and she is down on the floor, dead center. in my line of vision. noticing people are actually going up to her and taking fucking photos of her! and asking to be photographed WITH her!? what the fuck? we couldnt stop laughing....
show starts and a few songs go by - and we agree that theyre pretty o.k. . . . . Down in front, all the bouncers are keeping this rowdy vicious crowd in line. it was like a skinhead show. thank god there were at least 50 security in attendance, i felt safer. so one of the bigger guys was facing the crowd with his back leaning against the stage in front of rob thomas... bald head, fat neck, arms crossed, lips mimicking each and every angelic word flowing from his heros mouth. i couldnt believe it! each and every song of the WHOLE 2 hours, he sang along. i think his cock was stiff too.
the show is coming to a close and i can feel only one song left in robs ailing voice, so we pick up and go, sadly leaving my exboyfriends doppleganger behind, penetrating his drunk girlfriend from behind through her acid -wash stretch jeans. the old couple behind them just loved it i’m sure. ooh, i take it back, if it were my ex (troy for those of you thinking - which one ? - out of the hoards of cock shes blown through?) he’d-a spilled about 2 beers on the people down in front of him and puked by then. but fucker sure could dance off beat and yell at inopportune times like troy does... ha ha ha...
on our way filing out in an orderly manner, smelling wet ass and stomach acid, rob thomas starts yelling :" ASSHOLES ARE LEAVING MY SHOW!!" so we ran.
by the front door some normal looking soccer mom is in handcuffs and yelling incoherantly at some entertained cop. to top off the freak show, some macho man swings his stupendous leather jerkin into my face, causing me to eat his 3 pound steel zipper and smearing my lipstick across my face as if i had been bitchslapped. awesome. i topped it off with two peppered 7-11 jerky sticks and a bag of bbq cornnuts. mmmmmmmmmm.
a fake tooth on a cra-a-a-zy cornnut!
i love BBQ...mmm. so i just got home
its 11:45 pm from the Alanis Morissette & Matchbox 20 concert, and although i didnt show it, i had an awesome time! i think miss morissette was fantastic and shorter than i thought, and my god she has some lovely lady lumps, as she parodied tonight... her ass is gi-NOR-mous.... looks good on her too.
now, yes i am an ass, i dont know the first thing about matchbox twenty, i think i actually mixed them up with candlebox, another lame pop/rock band...
anyhoo, the guy starts singing and i realize its rob thomas. duh. i actually like rob thomas. but i only knew 2 songs in the 2 hours i sat there without a grin or smile on my face. i did chat with my man and make fun of people all over the place! christ i cant believe the freaks that came out tonight.
the weird thing - i felt like i was sucked out of the bubble for a moment and i saw my old self through different eyes - the eyes of "them". the feeling you get when youre with a friend you actually enjoy and dont care what other people think? you know....
well, there were these girls next to us, screaming, jumping and singing within centimeters of each others stinking mouths. actually happy and completely naive of people soaking in their oiblivion.
everyone around us was jumping and flailing so frantically for this "matchbox 20", i was sure we would be shown on one of those "amazing videos " - on whatever lame channel -the weight of these sows and oxen - forcing the bleachers down down down, slamming all my fat and body parts in between the sharp and chopping metal structure that would become my ginsu coffin.
so this show started with some band we missed on purpose. so i guess we skipped it. anyway, we just made alanis by a moment, and i sat in silent wonder at her voice and adorable "dance" moves. she is SO cute! she is really very wiggly. at one point she just kept spinning in a cirlce for like a minute, i was sure she would flop down , moaning like an autistic boy, but she quit spinning, staggered a little bit and kept on - without unwinding the spin! my god, she is INhuman, she is YETI. cuz we all know only a yeti can do that.
she says thanks and leaves the stage, and everyone starts that stomping and hooting. then, like a mother nipping a tantrum in the bud properly, the events center flashed on the lights and dropped a mammoth black drape down over the stage. everyone fell quiet and a hush of stupid swept from one end of the arena to the other. people felt DENIED. can you encore an opening act? i guess you CAN but will they come back out? she di’int.
people start an awkward trek to somewhere; feeling the need to do something - socialize? pee? slosh more liquor down your gullet?
then i spot HER. with her man in the bright orange shirt. a clearing grows around them as her shiny purple spandex pants attract attention like a lighthouse to ship - calling the pigs to port. and then Prince’s KISS song comes on... (guitar strumming insanely fast and a loud UH!) she vaults from her chair in a humping motion, grinding and gyrating her pretend pole, and her man slides back in his lawn chair, drapes his arm over her chair and watches her as if she’s his personal dancer.he realizes she is drawing many stares and he eats it up, nodding to everyone with a molesto - smile as if to say "yeah, yuns can look all ya want, she’s ALL MINE"....
a good few minutes roll by and me and den are chatting it up about her, life and torn socks. we are facing her, we are sitting up midway on the side of this arena and she is down on the floor, dead center. in my line of vision. noticing people are actually going up to her and taking fucking photos of her! and asking to be photographed WITH her!? what the fuck? we couldnt stop laughing....
show starts and a few songs go by - and we agree that theyre pretty o.k. . . . . Down in front, all the bouncers are keeping this rowdy vicious crowd in line. it was like a skinhead show. thank god there were at least 50 security in attendance, i felt safer. so one of the bigger guys was facing the crowd with his back leaning against the stage in front of rob thomas... bald head, fat neck, arms crossed, lips mimicking each and every angelic word flowing from his heros mouth. i couldnt believe it! each and every song of the WHOLE 2 hours, he sang along. i think his cock was stiff too.
the show is coming to a close and i can feel only one song left in robs ailing voice, so we pick up and go, sadly leaving my exboyfriends doppleganger behind, penetrating his drunk girlfriend from behind through her acid -wash stretch jeans. the old couple behind them just loved it i’m sure. ooh, i take it back, if it were my ex (troy for those of you thinking - which one ? - out of the hoards of cock shes blown through?) he’d-a spilled about 2 beers on the people down in front of him and puked by then. but fucker sure could dance off beat and yell at inopportune times like troy does... ha ha ha...
on our way filing out in an orderly manner, smelling wet ass and stomach acid, rob thomas starts yelling :" ASSHOLES ARE LEAVING MY SHOW!!" so we ran.
by the front door some normal looking soccer mom is in handcuffs and yelling incoherantly at some entertained cop. to top off the freak show, some macho man swings his stupendous leather jerkin into my face, causing me to eat his 3 pound steel zipper and smearing my lipstick across my face as if i had been bitchslapped. awesome. i topped it off with two peppered 7-11 jerky sticks and a bag of bbq cornnuts. mmmmmmmmmm.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
yesterday
Yesterday my english teacher had such a heartfelt talk with us about people. As she went on, i realized i always seem to have a different opinion than normal people. The story we we were supposed to read, and i forgot to, was about a man who died and his obituary read an empty and hollow paragraph.
So she turns and expresses how sad this is. How you rarely hear an in depth and elaborate eulogy. How we are summed up and this is all our life amounts to. Then the discussion rocked back and forth to technology and how it's separating us and what is the meaning of life?
But i guess my point was who cares? And I dont mean who... I mean well, the question that directly came from my mouth was "Arent obituaries kind of a new thing?" and she went on to say theyve been around for the longest time. So i bring to her attention, Indians didnt give a shit. We didnt hang on to the dead with tears, material possessions and longing. You had the ceremony, let them and their belongings go and moved on. There are not thousands of tombstones all over the U.S. depicting ancient peoples and who their families were, what they did and what they owned. We had oral tradition. And that was the respect we paid to the dead.
I think she was on more of a sharing vibe than a discussion vibe because after I said that, i kinda felt bad. She said "Its a European thing" and i felt "Oh, a white thing."
And although being raised in America in the 80's with television, MTV, toys, telephones and cars, I still dont fully understand white people. If youre white, you wont get what i am saying, but any other color understands that whites just think in a different way, in an erratic, fast and selfish manner. This is something i cannot assimilate into... and i dont know if being american fully means to be white. I think it originally meant that, but maybe i dont have to anymore.
For me, i dont want people crying around when i die. Death is inevitable and a proud moment to meet. I have never feared death nor do i obsess about it. It just is like a bowel movement. My god, i dont obsess about those either because i eat well. i guess if my diet was meat and french fries only, i would be crying over each bowel movement.
Anyhow, sometimes when people talk , i feel like i am in church somehow. feeling strange words and ideas rubbing all over my body unwanted and uncomfortable. it doesnt start out that way. but i always walk away feeling a little more disconnected. the clear glass between me and other people gets thicker and colder as i accept the idea the less i speak, the quicker this discomfort ends.
Soon, i will be darting to and fro avoiding people and their ideas, resigned to the notion they dont have anything to say for me anyway.
So she turns and expresses how sad this is. How you rarely hear an in depth and elaborate eulogy. How we are summed up and this is all our life amounts to. Then the discussion rocked back and forth to technology and how it's separating us and what is the meaning of life?
But i guess my point was who cares? And I dont mean who... I mean well, the question that directly came from my mouth was "Arent obituaries kind of a new thing?" and she went on to say theyve been around for the longest time. So i bring to her attention, Indians didnt give a shit. We didnt hang on to the dead with tears, material possessions and longing. You had the ceremony, let them and their belongings go and moved on. There are not thousands of tombstones all over the U.S. depicting ancient peoples and who their families were, what they did and what they owned. We had oral tradition. And that was the respect we paid to the dead.
I think she was on more of a sharing vibe than a discussion vibe because after I said that, i kinda felt bad. She said "Its a European thing" and i felt "Oh, a white thing."
And although being raised in America in the 80's with television, MTV, toys, telephones and cars, I still dont fully understand white people. If youre white, you wont get what i am saying, but any other color understands that whites just think in a different way, in an erratic, fast and selfish manner. This is something i cannot assimilate into... and i dont know if being american fully means to be white. I think it originally meant that, but maybe i dont have to anymore.
For me, i dont want people crying around when i die. Death is inevitable and a proud moment to meet. I have never feared death nor do i obsess about it. It just is like a bowel movement. My god, i dont obsess about those either because i eat well. i guess if my diet was meat and french fries only, i would be crying over each bowel movement.
Anyhow, sometimes when people talk , i feel like i am in church somehow. feeling strange words and ideas rubbing all over my body unwanted and uncomfortable. it doesnt start out that way. but i always walk away feeling a little more disconnected. the clear glass between me and other people gets thicker and colder as i accept the idea the less i speak, the quicker this discomfort ends.
Soon, i will be darting to and fro avoiding people and their ideas, resigned to the notion they dont have anything to say for me anyway.
Friday, February 22, 2008
Listening to Rockwell / Michael Jackson "Somebody's watching me"
I always feel like, somebodys watching me.
thats gotta suck.
so i quit drinking and smoking cigaretta's.
how do i feel. let me see. i also started this insane
step class and have cut out soda and fast food.
so i guess we can say i am left without a vice.
not one.
and i am off my anti-depressants with shivers sweats and insomnia.
but i have music.
i feed the mouth in my brain notes and syllables
and so far, i am o.k.
i read in my health and wellness book that it takes
6 years to break a bad habit.
fuck me. at least i dont have to quit masturbating
or fucking
or yelling at strangers out of my car when they didnt do anything.
there are other ways to let out frustration
and believe you me.
i will find them
ALL.
thats gotta suck.
so i quit drinking and smoking cigaretta's.
how do i feel. let me see. i also started this insane
step class and have cut out soda and fast food.
so i guess we can say i am left without a vice.
not one.
and i am off my anti-depressants with shivers sweats and insomnia.
but i have music.
i feed the mouth in my brain notes and syllables
and so far, i am o.k.
i read in my health and wellness book that it takes
6 years to break a bad habit.
fuck me. at least i dont have to quit masturbating
or fucking
or yelling at strangers out of my car when they didnt do anything.
there are other ways to let out frustration
and believe you me.
i will find them
ALL.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Brianna of Reno is gone.
For weeks now people have been looking for a young girl named Brianna Dennison.
She was abducted from a friends couch while sleeping.
She was only 19 years old.
They found her in a field on Friday.
Most abductions never bothered me,
well , living in the bay area, Polly Klass did,
but I think I had become so desensitized to violence and mayhem
living in San Jose, that eveyone became more than faceless,
they became ghosts.
Dead already. Long before I had met them or considered their paths or purpose.
But it has been awhile.
Life has been pretty quiet.
And the people who die and go missing, I guess I had missed the wire
of information in those.
This case made me cry.
Before they found her, I was prepping to join a search party.
I had myself started posting flyers and keeping current on information.
I cared.
This girl, I hadn't ever met before felt like I somehow knew her.
I felt like she needed ME.
And now she had been found. Strangled to death.
Do you know how long it takes to strangle someone with your hands?
If you even have the strength in your fingers, it takes minutes until they are dead.
If you have a ligature of some sort, less effort, more promise for permanence.
Its such a cowards fantasy...
to "take a life with his bare hands".
She was like, 90 fucking pounds.
Men disgust me.
How many women go out snatching peoples family and sexually gratifying themselves then
dumping a lifeless body somewhere?
R.I.P. sweet girl. You are at peace now.
You don't have to worry anymore.
Rumour has it, she has been missing one month
but dead one week.
We can only imagine.
She was abducted from a friends couch while sleeping.
She was only 19 years old.
They found her in a field on Friday.
Most abductions never bothered me,
well , living in the bay area, Polly Klass did,
but I think I had become so desensitized to violence and mayhem
living in San Jose, that eveyone became more than faceless,
they became ghosts.
Dead already. Long before I had met them or considered their paths or purpose.
But it has been awhile.
Life has been pretty quiet.
And the people who die and go missing, I guess I had missed the wire
of information in those.
This case made me cry.
Before they found her, I was prepping to join a search party.
I had myself started posting flyers and keeping current on information.
I cared.
This girl, I hadn't ever met before felt like I somehow knew her.
I felt like she needed ME.
And now she had been found. Strangled to death.
Do you know how long it takes to strangle someone with your hands?
If you even have the strength in your fingers, it takes minutes until they are dead.
If you have a ligature of some sort, less effort, more promise for permanence.
Its such a cowards fantasy...
to "take a life with his bare hands".
She was like, 90 fucking pounds.
Men disgust me.
How many women go out snatching peoples family and sexually gratifying themselves then
dumping a lifeless body somewhere?
R.I.P. sweet girl. You are at peace now.
You don't have to worry anymore.
Rumour has it, she has been missing one month
but dead one week.
We can only imagine.
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