Paging doctor RZA...Doctor RZA to E.R., STAT.....
Ah fuh buh. Muh name ih bwa kweiga en i coow kik yuhass cuh yuh uh fagguh.
Hmmm Bwad doesn't transcribe well.
Meanwhile, maybe someday I can actually update about my bizarre visit to the physiatrist (yes, it's a real kind of doctor), which spawned (with dan's help) the concept of Dr. RZA...
"Aw, young ward, dat knee is wike bawnk-bawnk! You gotta heal dat shit up, son, it's wike the wao-tzu an the supa mawio bwuthas thwee--get the waccoon tail young ward! Here, I'mma get you on some beat thewapy..."
(Attaches electrodes to 1984 roland drum machine and $12 casio keyboard, which exercise spinal cord at its base by stimulating the crucial "head-nod" reflex.)
And tomorrow I go to the JCC again to walk in the pool, stumbling blind around the toddlers taking swimming lessons and the elederly jewish women excercising.
Two nights ago I dreamt that I was involved in the making of the movie Pumpkinhead, which I've never actually seen. The crew was at my house. Later I was a ward for a 12-ish Jack Osbourne. Sadly Lance Henrickson did not appear at any point.
This morning I dreamt that I was reading the "real" final chapter of Neuromancer, which was told from Molly's perspective. Perhaps Kathy Acker will have more to say in this vein.
Tomorrow they start putting siding on the house.
And right now my foot is fucked so much that I really need to go.
Hmmm Bwad doesn't transcribe well.
Meanwhile, maybe someday I can actually update about my bizarre visit to the physiatrist (yes, it's a real kind of doctor), which spawned (with dan's help) the concept of Dr. RZA...
"Aw, young ward, dat knee is wike bawnk-bawnk! You gotta heal dat shit up, son, it's wike the wao-tzu an the supa mawio bwuthas thwee--get the waccoon tail young ward! Here, I'mma get you on some beat thewapy..."
(Attaches electrodes to 1984 roland drum machine and $12 casio keyboard, which exercise spinal cord at its base by stimulating the crucial "head-nod" reflex.)
And tomorrow I go to the JCC again to walk in the pool, stumbling blind around the toddlers taking swimming lessons and the elederly jewish women excercising.
Two nights ago I dreamt that I was involved in the making of the movie Pumpkinhead, which I've never actually seen. The crew was at my house. Later I was a ward for a 12-ish Jack Osbourne. Sadly Lance Henrickson did not appear at any point.
This morning I dreamt that I was reading the "real" final chapter of Neuromancer, which was told from Molly's perspective. Perhaps Kathy Acker will have more to say in this vein.
Tomorrow they start putting siding on the house.
And right now my foot is fucked so much that I really need to go.