Greetings From Your Motor Cortex

“And if you’ll all come around this way, you can see a neural key to our subject,” she explained to the small crowd. “Obviously, we can all see why his skin appears to have that pink glow,” she went on, everyone marveling at the massive ball of energy that seemed encompassed in glass, secured by black pipes.

“But what is it, exactly?” asks a for-good-measure colored character, reflecting the author’s own uncertainty.

“We don’t really know, but it is rumored to hold unimaginable amounts of knowledge on what the internet was like before people had protection from hackers,” mused the guide, tapping her cane lightly on the device.

That was for the reverendmarley, because it’s Codewriter fiction (or to Japanese cyberpunks, Tobu). XD

***

Oh, Shitz0rz
Last weekend, my adult frog crawled up the filter and escaped while I was staying in Detroit. My mom found it, gray and unmoving, out in the kitchen by the cat’s dish, and “screamed loud enough to wake Christopher from a sound sleep”. They dumped it back in the tank; the lump of squishy, gray flesh and collected cat hair sunk to the bottom in such a way that Mom assumed meant death.

3 days later, and the frog appears to be fine aside from a few bruises. I have no idea how it managed to survive without any breaks or puncture wounds. Because the amphibian had collected so much gunk from the carpet, the tank had to be cleaned after I’d just done that the previous weekend. Two of the most important things I’ve learned about water frogs: 1. They will treat everything else in the tank like feeder fish (except the actual feeder fish in there right now, of course), and 2. They will escape unless they are locked down. A secure lid, 6 more gallons of drinking water… the mess is officially taken care of. God damn. This frog was supposed to be easy.

Gay Dan Grows Up
A lot has happened recently that I haven’t had time to record. Dan (my gay male escort) turned 21 when I wasn’t around to celebrate, but I presented him with some sandalwood-scented bath salts and planned on treating him, later. The opportunity came yesterday once he instant messaged me about a state of depression and faulty engine, so I took him to town and allowed him to scoop up some Reese’s Pieces for Wedding Crashers, one of Vince Vaughn’s best projects yet. In exchange for my generosity, I made him run out to the concession stand whenever my drink was gone. And he’s not really my gay male escort; I just said that because he hates it when I say that.

 

One of my best friends, Nick the Twin, has stopped by a few times for Subway and whatnot. It’s funny – we’ll be chatting from neighboring cities about one thing or another and then decide in 5 lines or less that one of us is moving from the computer chair to their car.

screen cap

 

This summer has been awesome. Satisfied with her short feed to cyberspace, she grabbed the static lever and closed the portal.

After All Was Done – More To Be Said

Mandi,

There are things that strain our friendship, to say the least, but today was easier for realizing the important things. No matter how opposing or unlikable I get, you always call, and even when it annoys the fuck out of me I understand later that it’s one of the best things anyone has ever done in my favor. You told someone how worried you were about me, not too long ago, and your word got repeated back (because people are leaky faucets). You’re the one with all of the struggles foreign to me, and yet there you are, keeping me in your prayers.

Chatting with you reminded me of the sparks I lost soon after you mentioned that your family was moving to Ohio. The greatest thing in the world, I’m convinced, is when we’re both laughing so hard that it scares everyone else. I always got a kick out of the overwhelmed look I’d get from others, at the mere mention of your name. They knew that Autumn May usually meant “starring Mandi” and they’d just get this look like they wished they carried a firearm. My own standards objected and my situation protested you… and instead of telling everything to fuck itself, I listened.

You never understood my severe rejection of certain things you allowed into your life, just as I am unable to comprehend your frustrations, time and time again, with me. “You can lead a girl to fun times, but you can’t make her have any.” To you, it means one thing, and to me, it’s seen differently. What I failed to keep in mind during the hard times was that no matter how it seemed, laughter from here on out was all that we needed. Your continuation of Live Journal and long distance telephone calls forces me to realize that. And it sucks.

You were my megaphone; no one knows you weren’t responsible for the chaos. I quietly suggested something funny and then you’d say or do it for real because you were my favorite bitch. The best bitch in the history of the world.

Eventually to become the saddest stories ever told
Inseparables will separate and hot streaks will run cold
With her, though, it was never about fantasy or ideals
She’ll take the answers as they show, alongside Tommy Steels

Having been sheltered, there were lots of things I never knew
Like what it meant when that car’s license plate said N02
And even though I caught on to the wood grain, torque and wheels,
I could not keep up in the game with her and Tommy Steels

I fretted for my life the day her current took me in
She pushed me into troubles deep and showed me how to swim
Unable to recapture how a real adventure feels…
What am I missing on these nights with her and Tommy Steels?