sedatives and sex hormones in our water?

What in the what? I hope my blogg does not turn into me linking a bunch of articles because I really doubt people are reading this, but here is another great one by Ms. Goodman. Do read phantom readers! http://www.alternet.org/water/80505/
On another note, really I am trying to make longer posts it's just that there is so many awesome things going on inside of my head that I can't wait and place them all together in one lengthy writing session so this is what you get. Me me and more me.. Also I know how busy phantom lives can be. Mine just isn't right now. And hopefully never will be.

service starts here

The title was taken from a sign at Pete's coffee. Isn't it so much better than 'order here'? While listening to NPR this morning I heard that both of our beloved democrats spend 1 to 2 million a day campaigning. Ok, re read that last sentence, EACH DAY 1 to 2 MILLION. Isn't that crazy? Hmm, lets ask these mutants WTF (what the f@!k) they are thinking... And on the matter of FUS (f@!ked up sh*t) check out this link I came across from the wonderful internets, it's a program from Frontline on PBS that is definitely worth the watch! http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/bushswar/
Makes me want to revert back to my old ways of thinking and dream of living in the trees of jungles far away. Alas, I shall enjoy my American amenities as long as they are available to me. Perhaps in the future I will be able to live off the land or spend my days scuba diving in warm waters, but until that is the case this is what I'll give and this is what you'll get.

this is not the tree i had spoken of

I am in love with nature and tomorrow I am going to have an affair with it. This won't be the first time still I wish it would happen more. Infact, following my quick get away to Santa Cruz and the Redwoods I am going to be in dalliance with Big Sur. For anyone who thinks that heaven does not exist, they have not been to Big Sur. It is the Terrestrial of Terrestrials. It rise to the top (I hope all of my readers know when it is appropriate to bust into rhymin jiven hip hop aliven). Maybe I'll add a lil symbol, like an ampersand before the fact. & Can you dig it? I bet you can & There, I'll add one before and after because I like the looks of em and their name. Speaking of the ampersand, when I do decide on the segment of a poem to tattoo on the back of my head I would like it to contain one. Any suggestions greatly appreciated, except those that say "don't do it". Back to the beauty, I wanted to put up this picture taken in Mt. Shasta, CA the mystical magical home of Lemurians and me?

songs in my head while sitting on MUNI numero 14

Looking Down the Barrel of a Gun by Beastie Boys and Nobody Told Me by John Lennon. The people on the Mission Street bus tonight look very tired. I guess thats Easter Sunday for you. Maybe they were busy dressing up their bonnets, which the city was full of today. I think it's the first time that I haven't worked on this candybasketegg holiday, so I never got to see those weird city people celebrate. Now it's time to carry on my good friend Molly's tradition and watch a little Easter Sunday movie; The Shining.

my san francisco

while thumbing through a magazine at the local mega chain grocery store (see last post, I am such a hypocrite, hey wait this is America and, I'm a Latter Day Saint) I came across this bit about this womans blog who lives in Marrakech, and realized that
a. I need to start doing a shit load more if I'm going to enter this blogging business. not that I haven't done some real neat things in my thirty two years but hey, man I'm trying to live in the now, man.
b. maybe a little punctuation isn't a bad idea.
c. sometimes my posture really sucks.
the latter thought being inconceivable, since I could comfortably rest my chin on the floor in between my leggs until age 14 and then rediscovered yoga at the ripe age 20. which might I add, have failed to make a part of my daily routine for say, some 12 years now. oh ya, living in the now..

i'm drunk

and oh my god, cheese tastes so good. i'm about to slice another. don't be afraid, i rarely go out, but tonight i had a lot of fun. the place is called elbow room and my beautiful friend rahel kept us in spirits by knowing the bartender and asking "is this enough?" aka $10 for three shots and two beers! how does she do it? here's my conversation with some short dude:
hi i'm bandit
band aid?
no bandit, why didn't you come say hi to me?
band aid?
bandit
abandoned? why would i say hi to you, i don't know you
i;m going to eat more cheese. i wihs i had french ffies. why am i writing right now?

wearing a wife beater, drinking red wine

i hope i spill some down the front, it would be so apropos. i am in love with this tree on my little alley that often smells of urine and is sometimes lined with shit. the alley, not the tree. so it has the smallest pink flowers in the middle of green pointy things with white blossoms all about. the trunk and branches are bare except for these beautiful spring bloomers. i'm sure the explanation does this tree about as much justice as we are doing iraq, but until i can figure out how to post pictures this is all you get! text text and more text. i found some great treasures at the thrift stores today and wish the family of six children i was brought up in would have been brought up shopping second hand. i can't believe people still shop at places like bed bath and beyond and the dreadful ikea (recently seen billboard-IKEA HAVE MORE) when a term such as thrift exists.

first and foremost

oh dear. i'm doing it. i have been keeping journals for years and tonight as i wrote in my poets notebook (a gift i can't wait to use up-it is pretty lame, sorry ma) i thought to myself, a. blogging could be read by others b. instead of wasting my time reading blogs of girls lives i wish i had (even lamer than the poets notebook) ie. dooce, mightygirl, and believe it or not, married mormon girls. i can start my own and then when i'm wasting time online late at night, i have no excuse but to write. so alas, the blogs begun. please readers, sing that last line to yourself in a mary poppins tune, just some strokes on the keyboard and the blogs begun... and don't mind all of the grammatical errors. this is internet the most bastardish form of communika.