Archive for: June, 2007

Review: Zero

When I think of the concept of zero, I think of it inside a piece of fruit, like a cherry pit or an apple core, nothingness in a piece of hollow fruit. Most often, I picture zero wrapped in a fig from the fig tree next to my great-grandmother’s white house, right next to the kitchen window.
Because I can’t imagine nothingness, no color or light or darkness or anything and everything, I have to imagine it wrapped in something I could hold in my hand, and what better than fruit, which bloom and wither just as our skin and blood and muscles do, and I know that I’m just trying to conceive of myself in a way, a type of hollow fruit, a cherry pit of something unconceivable at my center.

Review, Sugar Babies Candy

Sugar Babies are little pieces of caramel candy in red and yellow wrappers that live in the vending machine on the second floor of my office building. They stick to your teeth if you chew them, but if you just hold them in your mouth like a patient dog, they dissolve into grainy sweetness, like you’d just stuffed sand into your mouth and decided to hold it in your mouth for a while. I bet if you stood on the beach and tried to talk to a mermaid, you’d have to hold sand in your mouth to speak their language. Maybe you’d have to mix some seawater in there, too.
Sugar Babies have a candy cousin (father?) called Sugar Daddies, which are big slabs of caramel on a stick if I remember correctly. They should write, “nobody expects you to eat a mountain” on Sugar Daddy wrappers.
If I was a really rich guy and I had a bunch of girlfriends who didn’t work, I bet it would be funny to give them all Sugar Daddy candies. Like, they’d pretend to be offended for a minute but then we’d laugh and laugh and then I’d give them their real gifts, lavish expensive presents, and we’d go to the beach and put sand in our mouths and try to talk to mermaids but later over dinner I’d tell them no, you have to mix saltwater in there, and then I’d pay for everyone’s meal.

Games Left in The Rain, Sick Of Food

Explaining a technical issue to someone in an office environment who is wearing a giant billowy shirt of leopard print cloth and an oversized medallion: Am I hallucinating?

Leaving your copy of The Legend Of Zelda Nintendo cartridge on your next door neighbor’s horse cart all day in the blazing summer sun and a brief but torrential afternoon thunderstorm when you were twelve: That shit still worked.

The song “Sick of Food” by American Music Club:
sickoffood
American Music Club - Everclear - Sick of Food

Another Georgia Summer: Like I’m floating backwards, sometimes.

My smartphone’s camera: Not so bad, sometimes, when it’s all you’ve got at the bar.
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