tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67830832024-09-08T09:09:39.291-04:00An alien in New York types through the frustration of "An Earlier Incident"Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger74125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6783083.post-36125896384910603722007-06-07T15:00:00.000-04:002007-06-07T16:15:08.284-04:00

So...Been a while. You could say I have been preoccupied ( obviously).Life has been fun, and for some reason the whole bloggin' thing, well, fell by the wayside, or perhaps even the East Side.This city sometimes gobbles you up, rolls you around her mouth, puckers and licks you, then returns you to the spot you were. Or perhaps that is just life, and NYC has nothing at all to do with it at all.

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6783083.post-29158510409215909602006-11-11T11:33:00.000-05:002006-11-11T11:49:57.943-05:00

What are you doing this coming Wednesday? You are coming to see me of course!!You will get to hear stories by other confused foreigners too!Buy me a drink, I will need it.!! Multiple !!'s are an attempt to hide my sheer panic !!!!!

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6783083.post-53859101184027233762006-11-10T19:40:00.000-05:002006-11-10T19:57:16.204-05:00

People get scared of using the word GOD. Because God has been stolen, and attached to some things very un-Godlike.God is not judgment. God is not hatred.God is not a figure, draped in white, lounging in a cloud, reaching out like E.T phoning home.At least that is not my GOD. God (for me) is a series of moments, that maybe fleeting or long-lasting (if I am lucky). God is that feeling I get when I

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6783083.post-1161416708479436052006-10-21T03:17:00.000-04:002006-11-10T19:33:06.876-05:00

I know it's an awfully silly blog title . For starters Steve's surname is AustIN. Silly, Silly!.But I did get a little giggle happening when I imagined a bonnet wearing Jane Austen, BeepBeepBeepBeeping her way through a manicured English Garden. Doing all sorts of ye olde worldy things, bionic needlework, bionic romance writing, bionic high teas and such.Would a Bionic woman in the late 1700's be

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6783083.post-1161095781148155272006-10-17T10:25:00.000-04:002006-11-10T19:33:06.794-05:00

It's been a long time...My absence from this virtual place has not been because there has been nothing to write about.The opposite is true. Too Much. Well not 'Too', but at the very least 'Much'.As this is my first post in clearly sometime, I do not want splay it all out now. Instead I will see what percolates to the top, and froths over the edge, and into here.Adventures of many kinds. New

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6783083.post-1115251164038866352005-05-04T19:59:00.000-04:002006-11-10T19:33:06.718-05:00

callme Originally uploaded by fluffmuppet.I went to lunch in Manhattan the other day, with 2 of my closest mates.It was a funny lunch, one full of innuendo, lesbian humour and double entendres. On the table next to us was this cute woman, with red highlights in her hair and red cord pants. She seemed amused by our antics, our references to dildos and breasts between mouthfuls of korma curry and

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6783083.post-1113949041052541922005-04-19T18:17:00.000-04:002006-11-10T19:33:06.631-05:00

"...an intrinsic Moral EEEEEVIL"That's what the new old Pope has to say about me and my lifestyle.What does a 78 year old ex Nazi Youth Member know about Intrinsic EEEEVIL ? More than me I reckon.I am not saying he is Evil, he is probably a very interesting man with some really funny stories. Let's face it, he isn't going to be around that long unless they come up with the Cryo-Pope-Mobile.

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6783083.post-1113875993519357712005-04-18T21:59:00.000-04:002006-11-10T19:33:06.445-05:00

The sunset around here is cool, in an urban way.Everyone is out on their stoops and the bodega is more like a roller disco. Kids hang out front with boom boxes, wearing old style white leather skates.There is this gaggle of boys that sit on the corner and talk to every girl who walks by.I know that one of them is called Bevan as once he insisted walking me home ( 5 houses down)he wanted to carry

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6783083.post-1111108486093234842005-03-17T20:14:00.000-05:002006-11-10T19:33:06.029-05:00

dmb Originally uploaded by fluffmuppet.My landlord is 80 something, her daughter 40 something lives in the basement most of the time. Her daughter is a bit of a train wreck, in a civilized controlled way, this I figured out when she tried to give me a nugget of nose candy because I did her a favour. I dubbed a copy of 'All That Jazz' for her one day... She must really dig that movie I

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6783083.post-1111031476718292602005-03-16T22:51:00.000-05:002006-11-10T19:33:05.729-05:00

I saw two (2 2) ducks shagging in Prospect Park, I guess that means spring is here.Not the most eloquent of Spring signalings, no melting snow drifts, no budding tree branches. Poetic it was not, straight to the point, it was.Sex, people, it's all about sex.To take my mind off the fact that I now have to proclaim celibacy in order to retain a level of self respect, I am throwing a party. A

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6783083.post-1110592415560826932005-03-11T20:52:00.000-05:002006-11-10T19:33:05.569-05:00

Been looking at my foot marks on the wall, a tad grubby, up there on the horrid beige paint.I like to lay on my bed with my legs angled, wiggling my toes, staring up at the ceiling that is now the floor.I imagine walking through the house upside down, throwing a leg over doorways and light fixtures.Lionel Richie was onto something.I need a bad 80's leather jacket and big hair."ooh, what a feeling"

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6783083.post-1110232753064248352005-03-07T16:36:00.000-05:002006-11-10T19:33:05.403-05:00

Been away, not physically.Back now.I've been thinking a lot about attraction. How it works, or doesn't.Attraction doesn't creep up on me, no, for me it is a Bruce-Lee-Flying-Through-the-Air-Kick-to-the-Solar-Plexus type of thing.Haven't experienced it in years. In it's absence I have tried various ways to cover the gap it has left.I have tried to talk myself into attraction, and I am pretty

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6783083.post-1108829971498499502005-02-19T11:18:00.000-05:002006-11-10T19:33:05.222-05:00

It's hard work to be flippant.You might not think so, but it is. Flippancy is the art of not letting anything get too close, laughing the most intense shit off, because it is intense shit.I excel at it. I am the Queen of Flip. Hand me a crown and septor and I shall knight the masses.Perhaps it is a gift too. Like a physical trick you do at parties to make people laugh.Laughter is the key after

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6783083.post-1108587523230281492005-02-16T15:58:00.000-05:002006-11-10T19:33:05.140-05:00

I am a non smoker too. Occasionally I'll roll my own and have a few puffs, not sure why, I guess I feel cool when I do it.Sometimes I watch my reflection to see just how cool I can look, how to hold my fingers, how to exhale ( that's the kicker). Anyway,I found a packet of rolling tobacco amongst my underwear ( in my undie drawers, not my undies)and went out back to smoke it. I was minding my

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6783083.post-1108503524988893762005-02-15T16:38:00.000-05:002006-11-10T19:33:04.895-05:00

DUNNY Originally uploaded by fluffmuppet. It's one of those things; one of those little things that can drive a person mental.My New Roomie leaves the toilet seat up constantly...Now I am not sure how to bring the subject up, do I leave a note on the cistern?Should I sit him down at the kitchen table and mention in flippantly " Can you pass the sugar and put the toilet seat down when you

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6783083.post-1107620324288558052005-02-05T11:18:00.000-05:002006-11-10T19:33:04.638-05:00

Once apon a time, quite a while ago there was the 'Dog Club'. This was the place where all dogs went to hang out and socialise; in fact you might have seen some pictures of it, dogs playing pool and poker together. All the dogs went there, big dogs, small dogs, pedigrees and bitsa's (bitsa this and bitsa that). Thing is, dogs tend to be a bit stinky, flatulence was big problem in the club and

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6783083.post-1107456689620473262005-02-03T13:30:00.000-05:002006-11-10T19:33:04.462-05:00

One my way to work I take the 2 train. New carriages, no grafitti, dot matrix display for the time and what station is next, blah blah, they are pretty nice in all. I walk to the end of my platform as usual, I always get a seat in that bum carriage. The train arrives. I step on and sit down. It takes a while to register, but there is an unpleasant smell. It begins to increase the longer the doors

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6783083.post-1107114232597110212005-01-30T14:43:00.000-05:002006-11-10T19:33:04.285-05:00

I met Meryl at the Cubby Hole for a drink. She had been calling me for over a week now but I had been screening my calls. The only reason I answered the phone when I did was because the cable company was going to contact me, before I knew it I had agreed to the date. It really wasn't my intention, but she is rather persuasive when she wants to be. After a few Killian Reds, Meryl became very

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6783083.post-1106883577439632092005-01-27T22:39:00.000-05:002006-11-10T19:33:04.215-05:00

My mum saw this and thought I was portraying myself large because I've been eating too much... NO I AM THE ICE HULK! Just in case anyone else was wondering.

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6783083.post-1106880025408890662005-01-27T21:38:00.000-05:002013-10-20T03:07:02.011-04:00

This is Part 2 of my funeral home visit. Putting on green scrubs makes you feel professional, at least it did for me. Before I felt like I didn't really belong, but now with my splatter screen, autopsy gloves and booties I looked the part. For a moment I stared at myself in the mirror of the prep room wardrobe, outwardly I indeed could have been a mortician, on the inside however I was

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6783083.post-1106114628882595662005-01-18T23:55:00.000-05:002006-11-10T19:33:03.971-05:00

I know I should write part 2 of my funeral home visit, but I am not in the mood to write about embalming; I don't feel like explaining what the dead can tell you and believe me when I say they can tell you plenty. In a way they are far more honest than us, they have no time to make up stories, the irony is neither do we but few of us really think about that. We get so wrapped up in unimportant

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6783083.post-1105727374202836142005-01-14T13:01:00.000-05:002006-11-10T19:33:03.792-05:00

I haven't blogged in a while, and it's not for a lack of having something to blog about. In fact I have something very strange to blog about, something that I witnessed on Saturday that has effected me greatly, yet when I have attempted to write about it (several times now) all I do is go into minute detail without really capturing the event. I'll try again. On Saturday I went to a funeral home '

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6783083.post-1105038588001626672005-01-06T14:09:00.000-05:002006-11-10T19:33:03.554-05:00

Get Out!Get Out... Out Damned Thought, Out of my Head. Nothing worse than a repeating thought, a stuck record of monsterous proportions, bouncing like a warped LP. Or is it more like a series of thoughts, each a small avalanche of negativity that continues to obliterate the cute swiss chalet of my sanity. I'll pretend I am James Bond at the start of 'The Spy Who Loved Me', I will ski my way out

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6783083.post-1105030327439507292005-01-06T11:52:00.000-05:002006-11-10T19:33:03.455-05:00

New Years Resolutions are crap. We all know that, hence the gym membership ads in every paper press item you pick up. They know its a crock too, you'll go a few times, you might even buy some lyra pants 3 sizes too small to aim toward. Then your resolve will become jelly like your legs after the Stairmaster. This is why I am going to focus on something far more managable... My New Years

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6783083.post-1104889054935749602005-01-04T20:37:00.000-05:002006-11-10T19:33:03.369-05:00

She tells me I am funny, leaning close to my ear with a whisper. Her breath is warm and tickles my skin, all I want to do is rub my neck vigorously where she has been. I just don't want her to think I didn't enjoy it, like wiping ones mouth after a kiss. I talk myself through it, focusing on how dark her eyes are, all pupil and lash. She has a splash of freckles across her nose, I see a miniture

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com