Tin-Can will rise. It is my mission.

I'm swimming in stickers and magnets and stuff and don't feel like whipping out some snide limerick but I got a thing in the mail from rd95 and I'm feeling creative so what the hell.

That's an insulator. They're made out of glass, they used to go on power poles, and they're collected by old people. I am not yet an old people (despite my best efforts to the contrary and i do not wish to collect electrical insulators but this thing is a pretty blue. And, following a hunch,

Well, that's intriguing.

Obviously a tea light would fit just fine but I've discovered that scented candles make me happy and scented tea lights are dumb. The way things are, that sucker would totally hold tapers, too, but I give two shits about tapers. So I need something to keep the votive from gooshing all over the threads...

Thanks, Ikea.

Make it fit.

Of course, it'll still fill up with wax in a truly annoying way unless I... hey, what's that over there?

Stay on target, red leader. Right tools for the right job. How 'bout

...I think that's fabric glue. Where's the craft box -

FUCK YEAH HOT GLUE

Okay, we need that to warm up so let's get out our jury-rig wire...

Getting there. Nice'n'mongrel-lookin'. Now, can we tweak that on in such a way that it's nice and up-cycly?

Fuck yeah Etsy Be Proud. Now where's that burly-ass monofilament...

...actually, hang on a sec.

THAAAAAAT'S why you kept the leather from the terrarium. Mkkay, tweak those eyelets out with a screwdriver...

Poifect. Hey, I'll bet the hot glue is hot now. Can you uglify this something fierce so it's got that heinous craft authenticity?

mmmm. smells like amateurishness.

Hey I wonder if there's still a swag hook in the ceiling from when we moved out in 2009?

Well allrighty then.

I like orange

you like blue

insom is my hero

TNG is too

  tin-can
  can free the world
  from
  male white
  corporate
  oppression

I want to ride you

like a pony.

In a dream.

All around a lake

filled with giant

dolphins.

I say like a pony

because

you haven't quite made

the transition into

a unicorn yet.

You will

call me

Horselord.

And I will say, "Hey!

Those are some

nice

stripper boots

you have on!"

-based on a very strange dream

    square house --
      did you know that this morning you have a quiet passenger
      a little winged thing with a proud crest
        silhouetted against the view I am
        sure you are
      looking at?
      it sits on your roof, surveying its lands
      watching how the fog marches in on the
        sleeping city lit with sunrise's
           luminous fury
      square house thank you for sharing
      the morning with me

I wrote this on a hike at sunrise a few weeks ago. No need for stickers :) I have so many :o

Poetry for magnets and stickers

sounds purely American

for where else can magnets

and stickers find a new home

in this digital age where items

have less value as it's now good

to keep everything in one super

computer that once was the size

of an elephant or a room

Morning stream of consieeness for stickers:

Channeling my chin strapped bike bikini

I waddle trough the bazar

Calls for purchase, like ducks squaking in my ear

Spittle flying in slow motion over the brightly colored tourists

All the vagabonds with their merchandise get browner and browner as

You head in from the sea to the middle city streets

A dog lay dead, maggots making their way inside

Time to go back to the resort

She's crying, again

I guess it's important that you know,

That I haven't been here to be liked for a while.

You can like me, like I like me, and others sometimes do

But I don't want you to like me because I was nice to you.

I don't want you to like me because we agree, or disagree,

Or because I make you comfortable, or you can tell me anything.

It is not my lot in life, not who I want to be,

I can stand it, but don't seek it.

It's nothing personal, I'm not a person to you yet.

If I ever were to be, it's mostly an idealized version of me anyway.

I'm a differing opinion, another life lived,

A stranger you can tell a secret to.

So don't worry about it. Just use it for what it is.

Here's my record wall in progress with more than ever!

Probably weird to write about an ex from years ago, but it was fun to think back on.

Your username reminds me

Of a short sleeper I admired

With 4 hours of sleep

She got all that she required

All the extra time she had

Went towards the hobbies she underwent

Her arts, her cello, her long distance friends

Consider it time well spent

Plus she went through books unbelievably fast

With retention way better than my own

Was also an anomaly when she spoke

Her rhetorical brilliance well known

I felt embarassed when we had sex

With 20 waking hours to my 16

She was THAT practiced at everything

A genius that can make a scene

An architect of arousal

In public places and / or the car

Open with fears and fetishes

Role reversal and lots of scars

But she once told me that whenever I slept

That I looked troubled and terrified

It's stuck with me since then

I guess I can't hide all anxieties from the outside

She made me feel small

But I'm alright with that

I wonder where she is now

Probably disappointed that I'm now fat

    You may not know it,
    Yet this would be a haiku
    If this line had 5-syllables.

Did you ever get my mail I sent back, insom? There were goodies inside.

I have a poem about spaghetti somewhere I swear when I get home its yours.