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As the Tumblr engines are arthritic this morning, once more, I have nowhere to divert my perverse energies but SG. Ill entertain us with a new blog howbout?

First, wasnt Tuttis interview fantastic? Especially that bit where she slips into text-based-adventure-speak? I thought that was adorable.

Secondly, my next blog will be a new interview -- with a bonafide SuicideGirl! and (to excessively but accurately...
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kiljoy:
If you were a Viking what would your name be and why?
headonist:
If I were a Viking, my name would be...Herschel the Accountant. And I think I've already said too much.
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HEADONISM: AN INTERVIEW WITH TUTTIFROOTI

Here, dears, is the latest in my ongoing series of chats with SG friends and semi-strangers, The Headonism Interviews.

Here is a convo with mischievous Tuttifrooti. You mustnt be fooled by her ice cream moniker and cuddly demeanor. I tell you, shes a secret schemer. Read, reply, repeat! And show her some chatty affection of your own.

* *...
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pineapplefroot:
biggrin Thanks for posting. Sorry I haven't brought the hordes of readers to your blog as may have been expected.
headonist:
You see, you bastards? You're making dear Tutti cry!
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Flame burns, rain sinks into the cracks
And they all go to rack ruin beneath the thud of the years,
Stands genius a deathless adornment,
a name not to be worn out with the years.

Ezra Pound, Homage to Sextus Propertius


No one will miss this year. No one will miss the last. We're in a waiting era, hewn from stillness and quiet discomfort. I...
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pineapplefroot:
Sorry to hear about your romantic situation... if you're ever in Indiana, I'm sure I could get a jump-start on an orgy for you tongue
pineapplefroot:
Well, since I'm originally a NY Jew, (still a Jew, obviously no longer in NY... and techinically it was lawn guyland, not New York) I've been told my neuroses are charming, so I think you'd have some luck.
Being edge and all means I have no ideas or opinions about beer, so feel free to make suggestions.
Music would vary- upbeat Daft Punk and The Avalanches to start, maybe throw some Ramones in there when things get hot and heavy... and a little AC/DC to shake things up.
I will admit that I don't know the sexual repertoire of most of my friends, but I'd imagine most are of up for anything- you'll have a hard time persuading most males to participate in more than spur-of-the moment homosexual encounters, though, since it is pretty Midwestern.
Come on, you know you want to! I'll even throw in a meal at Roots (http://www.allmenus.com/in/bloomington/19101-roots/menu/), the most AMAZING veg*n restaurant in Indiana.
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God, heres a new and vile idea Id like to try out.

Right here, on my SG blog, I think its time to stage a public game of Truth or Dare.

Youre invited. Yes you. You monster.


But HOW does it work? Ive thought strenuously about this.

I will post the eternal question: Truth or Dare? Any person may respond -- stating his or...
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headonist:
Well, I have an easy answer, which is quite difficult, and a less easy answer, which is harder.

The first is, of course, Morrissey. Were I alakazamed into an awkward lady version of myself, I would beeline for Morrissey -- who, ahem, may or may not be interested in helping me return to manhood. Still, I'd try. First, I'd be an exceptional someone; Morrissey is meritocratic. I'd try singing, of course, but I'd also give a go at poetry, sculpture, acting, and radical vegetarian activism. If all this failed to get his attention, I'd concentrate on being very, very heartfelt. You never know.

If any of this won me a meeting, I'd seduce Morrissey coyly. Wittily, slyly. And when that failed, I'd shuck my concert tee and lay my shivering bosom down on his faux bear rug. You never know.

He'd be a monster, of course: nibbling my creamy recesses and whispering breathy excuses in mine ear. At the critical moment, he would want a moment alone in the corner, perhaps, but I -- in desperation -- should have none of that. I would gently crawl over to him, produce a wry grin, shrug with a mighty understanding of life's transient futility, then proffer my glorious quim. He would mount me diffidently, but then, all at once, his pink conqueror would thrust into that virgin country. I would scream! I would clasp him, careful not to leave marks that might be visible from an audience pit! I would spasm as the magic moment came --

-- and I would transform back into my male self --

-- at which point, of course, the real fun might begin.

* * *

The alternative course, of course, would just be to ring up Jude Law and have it done with in an afternoon.
headonist:
Allllrighht, well, that seems to be about the end of our first game of Truth or Dare?

I'd say we started off quite well, but tapered off dramatically after the second question. Perhaps the holidays interfered. Or perhaps the likelihood of eventually seeing me partially naked drove everyone off, erring on the side of caution.

Anyhow, thanks ultramuch to everyone who chipped in to this first game. If we play T or D in the future on this blog, what would ylou suggest to improve the game?

Next up, I'd like to post a couple of interviews with various SG friends -- very patient SG friends -- and then, perhaps, we'll have some other sort of group participation. Any suggestions for that?
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HEADONISM: AN INTERVIEW WITH TIGERWONG

Today we debut a shiny new feature here on my blog: The Headonism Interviews!

In an effort to get to know those I know, I've badgered several SG friends to answer ten questions, one at a time, The conversations turned out to be tender, thought-provoking, and silly. They're filled with great stories and personal musings.

In the weeks and months...
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calico:
You know me, I'm all about effusive invasions.
tigerwong:
I'm definitely taking parts of this over to the other blog.
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"This story is old, I KNOW / but it goes on" -- Morrissey, naturally.

Last night I dreamt again of flight:

I lifted myself off the ground and, slumph, bumphed my head against the ceiling. Its not difficult to do. Its like holding your breath, or not looking into the dark corner right before bed. Its a delicate bauble Ive perfected, in...
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kiljoy:
You probably detest the band Tool as much as I detest David Lynch but your lucid dreaming vaguely reminded me of this song, it's rather long but it's quite an astounding piece of work in my humble and honest opinion. If you're not one for deciphering barely intelligible lyrics in rock songs I've also attached a transcript so you may read along. Please enjoy.



Lyrics
calico:
You featured in my dreams for a brief time before you found me on SG and facebook and any other social networking sites we may be friends on. You were never levitating or doing anything in particular, just in the background, often smoking, although I can't remember if you smoke in real life. I think maybe it was always the others that smoked, and you and I just hung around, drinking coffee and occasionally getting naked.

Come to New Zealand. I know a vegetarian redhead who votes liberal and lives across the harbor from me. She loves camping, and is finishing up her master's degree. I suspect her penchant for patchouli and tendency to talk about life as a journey would eventually weary you, but by that time I'd have stolen you away.

He's an odd sort of fellow, and in his younger days he may have been the type to snap you like asparagus. I'm not sure if that's part of the appeal. I've already married a redhead, and it didn't work out, and I think maybe 'circus freak' was on my list, and that's how it started. Just once I wanted to have a torrid affair with someone who could put both legs behind his head.
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Soon I will blog -- but not today.

I have so many ideas and time is so short. My only idea of god is any being who can truly begin, develop, and end a full story. For the rest of us, life begins and ends in medias res.

And so I will make my dutiful, incomplete contribution -- but not today. Today Im preparing...
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calico:
Do you really grow African Lilies?
calico:
I find that sad and surprising. I have such green thumbs, I guess I always imagine that everyone does. I'll grow you something someday. I would make suggestions of hardy indoor plants, but I know the heartbreak of losing them.
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We start the story at her feet, of course.

But why? What do you like?

I was in an exceptionally unusual (for me) posture: prayerfully kneeling, very naked, at the foot of the chair, at the foot of her bare feet. She had her camera in one hand and a cigarette in the other. I think she knew that my next dare for her would...
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ginary:
I fixed the double post for you. wink
calico:
I missed this blog, and it makes me sad. I was doing my avoidance thing.
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Autumn Day by Rainer Maria Rilke (Translated by Stephen Mitchell)

Lord: it is time. The huge summer has gone by.
Now overlap the sundials with your shadows,
and on the meadows let the wind go free.

Command the fruits to swell on tree and vine;
grant them a few more warm transparent days,
urge them on to fulfillment then, and press
the final sweetness into...
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pineapplefroot:

Silly, but made me think of this
pineapplefroot:
My apologies, sir, I'll rave more if you post a new blog.

Also, would you prefer "Marmaduke"?
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Existence beats nonexistence. Every time, folks, hands down.

Take it from me -- the one great unspoken tenet shared by sentient folks and complex organisms and plant life and fungi and protozoa and even Republications is: I'd rather be here than nowhere. W. C. Fields may've said similar.

To that end, a blog is better than no blog. A blog is a wee voice in...
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kiljoy:
*eagerly awaits Headonist's sophomore blog*
oxy:
Good blog, most amusing.