I got a surprise prostate exam at the urologist this morning.
Now as anyone can tell you, the urologist’s office
is the last place where a prostate exam
should be a surprise.
But I had been lured there for a blood test.
I thought the prostate exam was next week.
One of those things.
Everything looks good, apparently.
But some numbers had not been good, so, is why.
We’re waiting for the blood test results.
Which will either be tonight or
in a week or two.
I hope it’s tonight, to get it over with.
He had a little trouble drawing blood this time.
Usually it goes smoothly, but he was missing
the vein, then he got it but lost it again
or went through it.
I think my veins are about average
so I don’t know what the problem was.
I’m on my lunch break now.
I’m wondering if I’m getting over
Covid brain or going senile.
I just fed some crows that have been watching me
from the balcony.
The light is weird, it feels timeless.
Like they’re tinkering with the simulation
and have us stuck in a temporary loop for a while
Yesterday at work I listened to a music album
on youtube, it is a triple album, heavy on the drones
and overtones, three hours long.
After about five hours I realized
Youtube had it on repeat.
Sometimes it’s hard to tell the
masterpieces from the hoaxes.
The music from the field recording of a
is, however, of course also music.
And appropriate for this light.
Category Archives: Metamorphosism
Riding along on Kafka’s motorbike
I got a surprise prostate exam at the urologist this morning.
Something stinks in here
Man: turns off the space heater
I brought a sample of Sicilian
olive oil to the bike shop
a friend who works there
farms olives in Greece and
i had told her another friend
imports the Sicilian oil
because it is the best she ever tasted
but we did a blind test and
we liked her Greek oil better.
I had a little of the
Sicilian oil in a small
marmalade jar that I placed in my
coat pocket, carefully.
It was yellowish and all
the way to the bike shop
I prepared urine sample jokes
to employ, various jokes
depending on the situation.
She took the jar from me, her
hands covered in grease, and
took a sip before I could
decide on the right joke
The oil tastes old, she said.
Welcome to the something-something-th edition of the metamorphosism.com St. Valentine’s Day Limerick Contest.
Remember when 2001 was, like, the distant future?
The years just keep getting weirder, don’t they.
So weird, so fast, it’s hard to keep up.
2022 ended well, with Greta Thunberg owning that “alpha male”. Teenaged girls FTW. They have my genuine respect. I used to have 2 teenaged girls, I know whereof I speak, they are the future and don’t pick fights with them.
Used to have as in, they are all grown up now doing other stuff.
And 2023 started well, with the Mud Wizard, whom we will probably forget before the end of this contest (entries must be submitted prior to Valentine’s day i.e. February 13 is the deadline), but it was great seeing him taunt those police officers stuck in the mud, gosh.
Here are useful facts about the contest:
There is no prize this year. Don’t ask why. I can’t be arsed, I could offer a jar of marmalade or mostarda but it turns out I am very bad at sending food through the mail. ORP has a fine new album out but if you want that you have to go buy it.
So your prize is the honor of winning.
Can’t take that away from you.
Rules: As usual, entries have to be in proper limerick form.
Language: dirty words are acceptable, these are limericks after all. No hate speech. I reserve teh right to delete without explanation posts I find objectionable (including trouble-makey, complainy or trollish stuff), by posting here you agree to that. Just keep it light and fun okay? Life is short.
Make entries as a comment below this post.
Enter as often as you like.
Rules may be changed, updated, deleted, etc. without notice.
Themes: You get extra points and your chance of winning goes up if you incorporate some or all of the random themes, which also change without warning.
Themes this year include: Sleeping disorders. Anatomy of the skull. Medieval music notation. Varieties of bagpipe. Yoga injuries. Varieties of oranges (the citrus fruit). Interesting animal behavior facts. Life hacks. Limericks written in the style of a famous author.
Problems caused by boomers. Hopeful facts. Something happy. Bacteria in sourdough and cheese. Your personal apocalypse theory. Are cats better than dogs? The most unusual place you or someone you know has had sex. English words combining Greek and Latin roots. Bouldering. Marmalade recipes. Mud Wizards and other humorous pies in the face of the patriarchy, guillotines, pitchforks, pie recipes, Covid brain and other potential causes of future zombieism, legal and socially-acceptable sexual perversions, popular music genres, and parasites and parasitism.
More will be added so check this space.
I will always remember
going down into the kitchen
one morning and my daughter
is grumbling at the table
angry over string theory
i mean she wanted to slap somebody
I will always remember
sunset at the beach, we were in Florence,
and in Cannon Beach, and up north in Washington
my daughters sitting in camping
chairs at a bonfire
when i am honest, this year has been
for many of us
my mom froze to death in January
under sad circumstances
she didn’t have coming
my photo app sent me a memory
a collage of pictures of the beach,
my daughters from 2019
my wife and me from earlier this year
over for the funeral
I had momentarily forgotten we went
to the beach
but I had wanted to show her places
i went to with our kids because I had wanted
to show our kids where I had been
with their mother when we were young
when i am honest, it’s kind of a mush
in my memory banks
i see ruby beach, I see a tent
cobbled together from laundry
line and plastic tarps
I see a skunk lured back out of
our tent with cookies
they ask me what do you
want to do now
i want to live, i want
to experiment, i want
to make more memories
i want to love and be
kind but sometimes I also
want to slap a physicist
So it was a hard year
in some ways for
some of us
be kind to yourselves
be kind to each other
make good memories
this is what we got
this right here
this swirling galaxy
swirling in a snail shell
I was with Gamma, she had a conch shell the size of a lime.
Then I was at Horst’s place, except it wasn’t a place he really has, more like a house or part of a house, with a view of an ocean or sound, maybe near Seattle, or perhaps in Denmark. Or Sweden. Or Iceland. Or Norway. (All places I have considered visiting lately).
There were a lot of strangers in the place, coming and going between different rooms.
I looked out a window that overlooked a small blue wooden balcony overlooking buildings and, beyond them, water.
I was packing or unpacking. Going through my stuff in a bag. Perhaps I wanted to leave, I was getting my stuff together.
I found Gamma’s conch shell, or should I say Gamma’s Chekhov’s conch shell?
Because I noticed legs emerging from it, eyes, pincers, the whole package. It was home to a hermit crab.
Then I noticed there were other various snail-type shells in my stuff, that I had thought empty, but they were all running around, hermit crabs all over the house. I was scrambling around trying to gather them all up while also trying not to make a big disturbance as I didn’t know the people in the house and also trying to figure out what to do with them?
I would put them back in my bag if i could gather them all up and take them down to the water and release them.
Wrapped up in some newspaper I found a blotchy red-orange bass/grouper type fish, sort of gasping for air/water, I wrapped it back up and put it in with the hermit crabs.
Although the situation had potential for slapstick or panic, I was going about gathering the sea animals methodically and calmly, with a clear solution in mind. I happen to think that emotions in a dream are as important as any events or symbols, and this was free of worry or panic or anxiety or any other negative emotions. Which, if you are familiar with my dreams, is a breakthrough. It was a good dream, for me at least, and the sea animals were going to be okay too.
I had everything under control.
I have been bouldering lately, and I was talking to Alpha last night about how the things you climb are called “problems” and how I love knowing that they can all be solved, unlike problems in life, where you don’t always know that.
For me the dream was (among a lot of other things) about dealing with problems with that positive feeling that they can be solved, rather than with angst.
I just checked the visitor stats
on this blog
and let me say, it fills my heart with
when I hear that Mark Zuckerberg is
losing 1.5 imaginary bazillions daily,
or whatever on his metaverse
or whatever on
his new VR project
because he killed this blog
man. he killed personal blogging,
my stats, man, i had at least ten daily visitors
back in the day
now i’m down to five and most of those are
probably i don’t know.
something, some AI device harvesting something
learning interesting facts from my content
that i live so intensely for
so i can distill life
down to these nuggets
metaverse, man, why?
can you imagine being an investor
and realizing someone had convinced you
to sink your money into a project
aiming to make a new universe
even fakier than this one?
than this one?
how about a questionverse? where
you put on the goggles and walk around
and this little glowing thing flies over
and you ask it whatever
has always been
long bugging you
bugging you since childhood.
who pied the piper, and why did they pie him?
are my parents taking me on all these trips to remote
places to abandon me?
and it says, pied means multicolored.
(multicolored piper, wtf)
and it says, you lucked out, someone else always showed up before your
parents could abandon you on the bridge, at the lookout, in the woods,
on the beach, at the waterfall. just kidding – they were just
doing their best, getting away, going
on outings, they thought it would do all of you
your childhood terrors, you were born with them,
they’re from a past life or whatever.
like your daughter telling you
when she was little, that she had drowned
in her past life and chosen her new parents
bc she knew they wouldn’t let her
this time around
the glowing thing says
it is simple but not easy
it is complicated but not hard
it is hard but simple
it is easy if you don’t think about it
it is like when you are having a lucky streak
or when something physical – a tennis serve,
a dance step – is working well, it only works
as long as you don’t think about it
while you are doing it.
it’s like when you found a bird
on the ground under your picture window
and picked it up and held it
and felt its heartbeat
and it flew away and you watched it,
and at the same time, were the bird.