i don't like math, but find myself doing pointless calculations quite often. for instance, how much did the outfit i'm wearing today cost: let's see actually. from what i can tell it was free. yes, i do believe everything i'm wearing i either acquired free-of-charge somehow or someone gave it to me. or i'll eat something and see how big it is in proportion to my torso. i do this to other people too, like jason zeh, who is skinny, but somewhere finds the capacity to eat an entire twelve inch pizza in one sitting. for this i commend him. i'm sure lots of people do that, but he remains the same jason. pastor bison as the congregation has taken to calling him. or brother bison. alliterations are nice, i like them. i ate three cans of things today, tuna [because i've been trying to convince someone {anyone} to eat a tuna fish sandwich for weeks, and no one's been biting, so i did. and it was delicious. and nostalgic], tomato soup and diced tomatoes with green chilies in them, which i would like to add, made me perspire the slightest bit. i ate it quickly. and it has been a domestic day around the henry home. i watered/weeded the garden and played with sprinklers for about an hour. by play i mean that i was attempting to somehow understand their tricky sprinkler ways. it just so happens that sprinklers were constructed by someone [or thing] far superior in intellect than i. i could not decipher this strange lawn quenching apparatus. tonight, people will come to my house, and i will drink their beer, and then make them help me move large furniture. then i will retire to my new home, where i will sleep amongst the june bugs and the aphids. and they will bite me and crawl around in my clothes, occasionally rousing me, and making me sit awake in the dark, until i put on music for airports and think of how i love that brian eno. i love that brian eno. as you can see, judging by the colour of the word "love," red=passion. and the seduction of myself, by said brian eno, but not necessarily brian eno, so much as his discreet music, and if you know enough about him, you'll have seen the pun, which occurred seventeen words ago. if you know enough about me, you'll find that today, i am writing about absolutely nothing. and if you know me especially well, the inflections made throughout this entire post, have sounded like a southern baptist minister/david cross. and i have no idea why. if i knew, i would certainly make it stop, because it's really annoying inside my brain. stop please. which is exactly what i said to the redhead werewolf as it began to bite my arm off. the werewolf with the green/blue eyes. to him i said, "i am very nice. please don't bite my arm off anymore." so he stopped. and we took to lying in the grass next to eachother, having a newfound understanding of one another. it was very lovely. after mentioning the word love, i would also like to apply that word now to joel midden, who i love. and despite the fact that mr. wilson tries to tell me that if he were sixty years younger, i would be throwing rocks at joel, i will always tell him, "mr. wilson, i already throw rocks at him." which isn't true, but if i could throw a rock at joel right now, i wouldn't hesitate. only because i can't throw rocks. i can't throw then that far. but they probably wouldn't be rocks either. they would be cigarettes or telephones or lighters or pens. because that's what i imagine i threw most of the time. and this post is very very very weird to me, but i like it, and i am tired. i shall take a nap.