the elmo you hear, the less you know, bud.

terry francona, known affectionately by some as francoma, until he started winning the world series, skipped the game today in baltimore in order to see his daughter graduate from brookline high, my very own place of work. i meanwhile, skipped both the graduation and the game. take that fran ice cream cona.

walking home today, saw "schools not bombs" written on the street. how about "freedom, not schools and bombs."

school is not the opposite of a bomb. why, our childrens brains are being bombed every time they get up to recite the pledge, study u.s. history, or take an rotc course. educational bartering, yes. schools, no. "yo, if you let me borrow "ham on rye", i'll lend you my copy of "out there." now that i can dig. friends telling each other about the books and movies they have recently discovered, people browsing at book and record stores, public lectures and community forums that speak to our collective concerns, engagement in relevant social movements, this is what we need more of.

less bombs.

and schools.

pinko, you will most certainly dig "oryx and crake." don't sweat the title, great book.

it's not that i am living a lie. it's just that there are wide gaps when truth is shut out. think of the gig. artificial construct. need to do it to pay the bills, also an artifical construct. the student needs to be in school until the age of 16; artificial. made up. fake.

bullshit.

typing this...almost bullshit.

c's-lakers. everyone wanted it except me, and perhaps tony parker. although now he can spend more time with eva longoria. ok, except me. i've always hated both of these teams. it follows that everyone else loves them. i can't just seem to fit in, even when the issue is an irrelevant one.

go lakers?

that was even hard to type, but pinko, if you were here, and had to ride the train besides these hip hop crackers and townies in their kg and pierce uniforms, maybe you would dig my dilemma. anita bryant to go for 40 in this series. he needs to drive like a vicki carr into the paint. he needs to dish in an edie gourmet fashion. yes, on this day, i sing the praises of phil jack off, and while i could say "give me shaq," at this time, i will settle for the apartment and drink lemmon juice. shirley you appreciated that line, but perhaps you didn't. in that case, you can go jump in a laker. go fisher in a laker, for all i care.

lamar odom better than that line, but he ran out of gasol.

pau, right in the kisser!

i kramden that one. man, i've got this down to an art form. ask alice. for you see, i have no trixie's up my sleeves.

i am not a crook.

what a dick, huh?

a joke; a man's pants are falling down. a guy behind him notices, and says to him "now i know what hairy ass meant.

anita hill to climb. if only the government will give me clarence, but who are they to judge where i go? they are not supreme beings. well, i suppose the ball is in their court, so i must be judicial in my statements.

a man just can't express himself anymore.

could he ever?