We grabbed the stage during Harold Von Killian's show!

Will Workforf Ood managed to pull some sticks and get us a chance to infect the stage during Harold Von Killian's circus show this weekend.
And what did we do with the opportunity to address hundreds of fans?
Play "Whats up your ass????!!!!" of course.
The rules:
Strangers are selected at random from the audience, they are then told to drop pants as Chlorine Enema Jones goes one by one shoving random articles between their butt cheeks.

They have ten seconds to guess or somehow figger out what the article is, it could be a remote control for an RCA VCR, it could be a wad of feathers or the keys to a Buick.

Chlorine, got to have her hands all over some really hot girls, Will was helping, Bizzy cheered and Pinga's job was to hold the victims gaze away from the action so they couldn't cheat by looking.I was dealing with a couple of hotties myself, only they were dumping ice down my boot.


I pulled my boot off and when the one girl wasn't looking I threw the boot ice down her shirt HAHA!
She did it again with help from her friend, clowning with the Ice in my $500 cowboy boots while I'm trying to put stuff in people's butts.
After dumping ice in my boots he tried to run away, haha we owned that stage lady, you can't hide. I was way above every one in the crowd, of course I can move faster than her.
I stage dove into where she was hiding under the stage landing almost in her lap and laughing like a banshee.
That scared the S*%t out of her.
Her only reaction was to weakly tweak me in the nipple, I laughed and gave her the "CycloneOmatic, Texas, Titty Twister" I normally would never grab a woman I don't know by the breasts and twist them like a car sterio knobs but that clown make up can cash some pretty outragious checks.

*

gig!

We have a gig this Sat. a big one "Harold Von Killian's No-Ring Sideshow and Traveling Spectacular" 900 pm at Dante's inferno.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Live Music 9pm
HAROLD VON KILLIANS NO-RING SIDESHOW
& TRAVELING SPECTACULAR!
HEROES AND VILLAINS--
MARCHFOURTH MARCHING BAND--
TRASHCAN JOE--
BLOOD THEATER--
KAZUM--
ALBERTA ST. CLOWN HOUSE--
THE SPROCKETTES--
THE VON VONS--
$11.00 advance TicketsWest / $13.00 at the door

I groped my way through work last night, all sick and stuff from the throat ills, scratchy and dry, saw a lot of friends that I was glad to see but too course to yell hello to.
I feel a lot better now.
I got home around 3am and crashed out with Caff and the baby until 5am and helped with kid stuff.
After all that was done Caff told me she and Bizzy had planned to go to the Goodwill Bins but she was busy making Dawg Snax.
She also needed a run to the sticks to get 150 pounds o0f bean flour for Snax.
I made a choice to forgo sleep and go to get the stuff. We need some stuff for a film shoot we are working on, I'm glad I did.
We got to the Goodwill Bins after scouting a lot of locations for one of Pinga's scenes.
As I got into the school gym shaped room I beheld many Older ladies with babushkas and Russian accents patrolling 50 or so giant bins full of clothes.
I can tell it was a job to them and god bless um.
I designated one table as the urine section because there was a big bird cage in one of the bins that smelled of pee.
The funny thing is , it didn't smell like bird or rodent piss, it smelled human YUK!
As is the custom, from time to time, haggard looking worker bees, drag out six giant bins full of junk and then drag out another six.
The people get pole position and wait like sheep for the trough. When the bins get there they quickly start going through the piles of stuff, looking for treasure.
It's all sold by the pound so today I got a DVD player for about 32 cents.
Last time I came to this place was during the Big Bang Circus days. I went looking for bath mats to make chaps out of and found a train wreck.
Then it was Xmas and when six bins got there, it was a fight. Kickin screamin yelling and pullin.
And all this stuff is crap that other Goodwill stores couldn't sell.
With the fools fighting like seagulls over scraps, I turned to Doc Chopper to show him this catastrophy and he was gone.
Of course he was in the fray too biting and kicking for broken Barbie toys or something.
I got paints, some props and some clothes for the kids, I was ready to go but I took a wonderful turn.
In one of the bins, not far from “urine bin”I found a VHS tape of Heavy Metal band, Queensriche “Operation Mindcrime”
An important album for Heavy Metal because it was like George Orwell,s 1984 but with big hair and spandex.
Like the Terminator I scanned the tape for a list of variables:
Is there a tape in the box?
Y.
Is the tape intact? Y. How long is it? 45 min. thats cool Yeah!
Now I'm too tired to sleep.

Someone I admire a LOT!

http://www.wendycarlos.com/
Wendy Carlos changed my life as a youngster with the Clockwork Orange soundtrack.
I still get chills when I hear her work.
She is a pioneer of electronic organ music from the 60s, (sounds like Bach as played by a building full of robots).
I do gigs where there are hints of what her work has evolved into, festivals with a lot of what they call "electronic music" on the bill, let me tell ya, it's the biggest load of donkey CRAP from mediocre, uninspired hell!
Mostly repetitive beats and assorted racket, kind of like stuff thats perfect for drugged out festival goers to stagger around to.
When people tell me they have favorite D.J.s I have no idea why, my 8 year old sounds better on electronic equipment than any of those morons do and her stuff is off the top of her head and original.
I wonder what they would do if they could hear the real stuff.
With W.C. you get to hear movements climbing, dashing, falling and cresting like paint flung on a wall exept for the fact that each note is exactly as long and as short as it needs to be, it's a journey, a story, a feeling of epic size and space that make my heart burst.
It's funny that even when I was in Punk bands I couldn't resist playing electric bass like it was a cello and in a classical style.
W. Carlos is a treasure in my book.

Chiddrens

Clown hOUSE CHILDREN!
tHEY DON'T KNOW HOW GOOD THEY HAVE IT.

tough break!

I got bad news, our friend, team mate and neighbor Jonny D. got punched in the mouth by a drunk.
He was trying to calm the guy down and got socked.
The blow wiped out a bunch of important teeth he had living in his mouth.
He seems to think that if he posts an ad on the Ebay offering the three knocked out teeth of a famous blues singer, he might get enough to put a dent on the price of dent al work.
If you know Jonny, be cool with him and help him out, that was a tough break for a really good person.
Who can stick his teeth on Ebay?
I don't know anything about how to do it, my computor writes in crayon.

Normal Day, click photos for a better view

We had the first normal day in weeks wow! WE EVEN GOT TO WORK ON A GOOD OLD FAShIONED ROCK VIDEO!
What a wierd conglomeration of events, first off, I woke up at 7 am.
My days with two kids and a night job have recalibrated my days from 24 hours to two 12 hour shifts and the sleep pattern went full circle so in one week I went from going to bed at 7 to this.
It's a new world, the world that exists while the sun is freshly up.
there are different sets of butts that sit on the chairs at my local coffee shop,
I met some new folks, shook hands with some old friends and had a pleasant time of it.
I gave up a huge cashe of Star E. Rose cafe, coffee cups that people left at my house, super hot Liz was dealing with a wall of people wanting things when she saw me.
She stopped what she was doing, threw her arms around me and said "I read your blog, sorry about your life", I didn't realize what she had said until hours later, I was just happy for the hug, so happy I went back an hour later just to gawk at her and giggle.
We decided that since our guy Will Workforf Ood was touring with Kissbank, we would tape video for "Filmed by bike" instead of practicing live stuff for our Dante's gig on the 27th.
I spent the night before writing the script, I wanted to use the snow fall to create a fire proof zone to tape some fun stuff blowing up, we don't always have such good conditions for large explosions. I won't tell yopu the plot because I want it to be a suprize when you see it at the Hollywood Theatre or wherever the "Clown Shorts" end up.
At around 2 pm we were running an hour late and Pinga couldn't find his Officer Down costume. I had to re write the script and ditch a lot of the gags because Pinga had to be his regular character, one who is slightly less of a prick than Officer Down, in the credits it will read "written and rewritten by Dingo the clown".


Chlorine and Bizzy, dissagree about what tape deck to use while recording our epic song, photos by Loren.

Pinga and I took turns setting up the shots.The music will be added later so the folks passing by got to see us doing the "hard sell" on some awful racket. Really, it was so funny, a crowd gathered to see what we were up to and were treated to a song that even penguins would hate.

When this cannon fired it was too fast for most people to capture ( on film) but Loren tried. After this photo was taken flames shot out the cannon and then raced back down the barrel at Pinga, when you see the film you won't see it, but Pinga quck as he could, threw the cannon in the yard and narrowly avoided becoming a Brazilian fireball in a big red shoe bike.
Next time we better use more pressure.

The cannon blew a hole in the big piano, lighting it on fire and making the show better and more entertaining. We didn't expect it to stink so bad.
So with all the sickness, work foibles, injury and stress (all plainface troubles, stuff I spent most of my life avoiding) I had a good damn day, one that was normal.

from J on the R DIY, Portland!

Through rain or sleet or snow, I come to deliver "DIY, Portland" to
your ears. This month, as you may recall, is all about DIY dining and
drinking. We'll hear from Pirate's Choice Kombucha creator Gunnar
Johnson, who will enlighten us all about this recently resurrected
ancient health tonic. And culinary rebel Michael Hebberoy will be on
to talk about the underground food movement in America. It's gonna be
a good one, folks, so don't miss out!

Tune in tomorrow (Thursday, 1/18) at 10:00am on KBOO 90.7FM in
Portland or look for downloads, streaming and podcasting information
at www.myspace.com/julieontheradio. (Links should be up later tonight
or tomorrow morning.) Special thanks to my co-producer for two shows
in a row now, Brian Kramer. Brian is awesome and so is his home
studio.

Bizzy!

Bizzy Bawdy is taking on a big job by fixing the clothes washer, what a gal!
She found out that the clutch was busted, she looked online at many "how to sites" and really put her back into it (I know I was standing bahind her like a creep).
The washer was donated to the Clown House 7 years ago, it washed my 8 year old's diapers, the one year old's diapers , Many mud pit garments and costumes, it's been taken apart bit by bit and splayed out all over the basement floor of the old Clown House and now it looks a lot like a disaster victim.
If you have an extra clothes washer that you don't use how about passing it along?
The old one has given itself to us in a monumental way, it's done it's job well and deserves to retire.
I can trade too, I have an extra clothes dryer that runs on a regular house plug and I'm sure I can mobilize some clowns to play your party in trade.
Meantime Bizzy will work on it as she can and maybe fix the darn thing.
If we get a new one we can turn the old one into a bike drawn chariot for Bizzy to dance in.

MUD!

stress

I've never payed a dime in auto insurance in my life, I'm 38 something and I have never owned a car.
You would think, “wow dude you must be a cave man not having a car and stuff life must be a breeze”
Well I am a cave man, and my commute is far quicker and less stressful than the I-5 power gridlock but It's not all glitz and glamor, I still manage to have an aching body, tired feet and some kind of stress bearing down my back at all times.
This night was a rough one, I had to deal with one of the most crummy things that happens to a parents.
A sick 8 year old.
I was startled from my bed by the sound of my little girl, politely as she could, yelling for help.
I whipped around the corner while still pulling up my pants and saw the poor girl, sitting in the pot fully clothed and supporting her head on the tub.
She had gotten that far and run out of energy, she had a fever and was talking like she had one foot in the spirit world.
Her voice was faint and her face didn't move much when she spoke, I was afraid, let me tell ya.
Cffeine got there shortly after I did and began gathering stuff to clean her with.
I rocked my child in my arms like I did when she was little, she liked that.
She got a little taste of when she was a baby but wasn't ready for the other babyhaivior, I had to wipe her butt, she didn't like that at all.
I'm telling you this but don't you come up to my kid talking about her having an accident or I will be forced to pull your jaw out of your skull and feed it to my dog, I love my little girl.
We kind of milled around and took care of her, after a bit Caff layed down with her and I went back to the room.
The baby woke up shortly thereafter, filling the pre dawn house with the shrill cry of "I'm up, evryone deal with me!" I looked down and laughed at how used to stress I have become...I was still wearing a condom.

Spring can't be too far off

I Nominate Mercury as Element of the Century

Mercury HG 80, she (a.k.a. quick silver)has an atomic weight of 80, is a transition metal, and naturally loves hanging out in the crust of the earth and in oceans.

For her involvement in justice:
Goons slaughter sharks for fins; Goons eat fins; Fins hold largest concentration of mercury; Mercury causes systemic poisoning of goons.

For her involvment in industry:
It first starred as smoke stack candy in the Chinese factory that made your new leaf blower. She was an insoluble heavy metal. There, with a lot of churning and hard work she concentrated herself into a water soluble poison. Evaporating along with a bunch of water molecules, she toured the globe, finally settling down with the good old Oregon Rain. WOW!

Mercury... Element of the Century?

Happy Birthday Heather!

Your present comes in installments!

AAAAH sports!

I'm still up at 9 am, I'm on the coffee and waiting for the pet food store to open so I can feed the old doggie.
I gots the TV on and a football game popped on, I sat there slack jawed, amazed that anyone cares about such a pointless battle.
At times like this I say a prayer to my ancestors, activating the records portion of my brain and entering a room with "Everything about everything for all time past present and future, infinitely big and infinitely small, always" carved on a small wooden book.
I opened the book and it was reveled that in the first days of Olympic sports in old Greece, any modification to the body that could help gain speed, strength, stamina,would have been encouraged by officials.
Maybe the sports could be more interesting to dopes like me if it both meant something and was cool to look at.
Howzabout if it was required that football players be on performance enhancing drugs.
More football players should be allowed baseball bats, Tennis players should have a bow and arrow option (to soften up the other side a bit)
Maybe Bionic/Darth Vader es c Steroidabominations playing for causes that benifit society, one country's team could play another to forgive a national debt. It could be a way to get years taken off a prison sentence.
Another team could be playing to keep it's corporation on top.
Back biting, action, drama ...I'm entertained.

I'm still not smoking cigarettes

My body keeps thanking me.

Photo by Gabriel Amadeus

stickin stuff in peoples butts during a show at The Know on Alberta street.

Pinga took this from our rooftop

Y'know whats funny anytime of day?
Wearing Too big-wool pants and nylon underwear, the shorts act like freeway for the trousers to slip down.
I'm injured in the knee so I've been walking downstairs backwards for the time being, really funny to be holding pants aperantly made from wookie and hobbling backwards down stairs yelling "Is the phone for me?...No...ok" and hobbling back up to my office/hole.
Another thing I do a lot, that's funny but nobody sees is typing one handed on an upsideown keyboard, while eatin7g.
The sculpture on the roof of the Star E Rose is by Brian Borello, he was one of the first artists who were priced out of this neighborhood, glad his art is still here.

from will

Hey Caffeine-

I'm still in the east bay where they're having a tree sit at the oak grove near the university. I'm tempted to stay but i should return back this week.

Here's the movie clip of dingo and lowrent..

http://www.clownhouse.org/MVI_1880.avi

I searched alberta , clown on flickr

Clown House stage 2005

don't forget bikeportland.org

this is a shot of our yard during some kind of mud festival

Holy smokes, this wasn't my day...or was it?

The thing about working the night shift is that you sleep all day.
Who would want to get home from work and fall right asleep?
I'm up a few hours writing and puttering, scheming and brooding, helping with the baby and I usually
crash at daybreak.
I had wanted to play music with my kid the next day but that didn't happen.
If I stay up longer I can help get the one kid to school (the one I promised to play music with) it's a big help.
When I sleep, it's easy to forget about me alltogether, I didn't hear a peep from anyone at all.
Today I woke up late for work, work starts at 8 pm and thats when I woke up.
That sucked so bad to go from sleep to work, that fast.
Then I had to train Raul to close the kitchen he don't know the English, thats OK because I pretend to know Spanish well enough to tell him whats up, the thing is, he can't read.
He can't work that job without being able to read, you have to read orders and cook them.
He did clean very well and I decided to teach him as much English as I could before he gets the boot.
I got my pay check, $200 damn! I was sick so long, I didn't get many hours.
When I got done working I jumped on my bike and this time another sound happened, the sound of metal grinding into metal, I dismounted as my derailier careened into my back rim, I had to walk the beast all the way home, what a bad trip! or was it?
It could have been worse, I could have woken up at 9 and gotten fired.
I could have woken up on fire.
I could have not woken up.
I could have come home from work, went right to bed, and woken out of boredom in plenty of time for kid and job, done that, came home and had nothing to tell you.

Raul, well he is still screwed but he won't know I wrote this about him will he?

When I do get to play music with the girl, it will be more fun because we tried.
I could be the kind of person who writes off Raul.
I did get some sleep, usually I get only a few fitful hours of sleep, the hall outside is loud with kids and clowns.
My check could have bounced, There could have been no check.
The sick clinic was free, it really would have sucked if my illness costed money plus lost dough in man hours.
The bike could have given me no warning and my head could have been painted all over the frozen pavement in the middle of the night on a desolate street.
I think this was a fine day

cut and paste to your browser

http://www.truemajorityaction.org/EventKit/casualtylists/

shout outs!

To all you folks who found out I was ill from my blog HAAAY!
To all the kids who said hi at my work but I was too busy to chat Haaay!
To all the folks who wished me well and prayed for me Haaaaay!
To all my friends HAAAAY!
I'm back, large and in charge, better than before.

pills

I went most of my life without ever taking pills or powder drugs of any kind.
Many years ago in Minneapolis, my house burned down, to console me, the next door hippies offered me some pills that I smoked from a gravity bong, it was awful and I woke on the other side of town with a strange girl and a black orb.
So I don't like that stuff at all, never did, boy do I have stories.
Now that I was sick for a long time, I've had to take a handful of pills every few hours, yuck!
I feel it in my liver, it's mostly the Ibuprofane, thats the stuff that is keeping my swelling down and the pain at bay.
I have some "stop smoking pills but I don't need them.
On New Years Eve. I met Nick Creature on the phone, he is a ringmaster from California.
When Nick was on his way here to the Clown House, I asked him to stop at a store and get me some smokes, he brought me two paks of Top, I never opened them because that was the day I quit smoking, I later gave the tobbaco away as bribes.
I'm still waiting for the energy surge that comes when you stop smoking.
I may not get much real energy till the kids grow up.

Wow I look ike the Aztec corn god

CENTEOTL the god of Maize kind of looks like me, well in the face.


OK look at all the known Aztec gods and I'll bet this hansom devil looks more like me that I look like any of the other ones...
sheesh gimmi a break, I'm just sayin

fellow texan

This is my friend Lobster Boy's xrays.
He runs with the Carnival of the Damned, maybe he will be back next year.

Goddes bless yer eyes

You brought us crates of food, you fed us, you helped us feed others, you know who you are, I don't know how low on the down low yer actions are so I won't mention any names, you know who you are.
Hey!
Thanks so much for the help.

layed up again!

Crap, I'm layed up again!This time my knee is injured.
I was taking off on my tall bike to Take care of some bidnez.
Just like normal I pulled my steed out, pointed it in the direction I wanted to go and took off.
At once I could hear the most cantankerus click click click click click click, real fast and unrelenting.
I thought "My thats an odd sound for a bike to make", I thunk on it some more..."the only thing that would make a sound like that is a....booby trap!!!!!too late, the elastic strap did it's job, it pulled the back wheel into itself so where i was moving forward at an increasing pace, suddenly I was at a dead stop and being flung to the ground thanks to gravity and kinetic energy.
At least this time I was doing a stupid thing instead of just getting attacked by a baby.

because I love you...

OK heres a secret for you...
I told the folks downstairs that I needed some time to look at dirty pictures and masterbate, actually I used the un-interupted time scrap booking with the door locked.
Taking a break keeps you fit.

sports

Didja catch the sports report?
I did, I think a lot of suicides may be sports reporters.
I'm not trying to be mean or anything but mercy sakes!
That job has you not only spouting out pointless information, it's wasting the time that could be spent on real things like global warming and a corrupt government.
As I hear him prattle on, numbers and names of teams, cities, stats, I can see him go home, walk into his room, pull a pistol out of a drawer, put it in his mouth.
Now the kid sports reports are great, those are constructive gang colors. It's not just the sports guy, the "Entertainment" reporter faces the same fate exept in my mind he is in a hotel room coked out of his mind.
He yells"Iv'e done nothing!" and jumps out the window.
What do I know, I'm just a clown.

From Caffeine's blog

An Open Letter to Newcomers to the Northwest
(Or, Don't Be a Cravasshole!)

Welcome to Cascadia! As a child of the first wave of hippies to migrate here, I know first hand the scenic beauty of our emerald green home. Drive an hour in any direction, and find yourself in a different climate: mountains, desert, rainforest, swamp, you name it, it's here, relatively unsullied (remember to pack out your trash!), and crisscrossed with trails, for all your outdoor recreational needs.
But heed my warnings, all you rookie adventurers! Recent years have seen a sharp increase of the number of people who met untimely deaths in our wilderness. From the well-publicized Kim family, to the many river fatalities in the summer, unprepared nature lovers have given their very lives for their vacations.
When someone gets stranded up on the mountain, and they send out a search party to bring back their frozen bodies, Dingo & I take it hard. He calls those poor fools “Cravassholes,” because it's as preventable a death as smoking. And not only is it a senseless loss of life, our state's budget is struggling with a broken back, and we simply cannot afford all those rescue missions.
As kids, my siblings and I were trained by our parents to know what we were contending with when we set out into the wilderness. From wetland preserves, to waterfalls, to high mountain ravines, my mom & stepdad took us on long hikes, making us carry enough food for the trip, and appropriate clothing. I probably whined, “I'm too hot! I don't wanna wear an extra jacket around my waist!” (Sorry, Mom.) I remember one year, my little sister pitched a fit when dad wouldn't let her bring her doll backpacking. When the trip was over, she had seen her dad in a whole new light, not as a guy who tells her what to do for fun, but as a wise man, who should be listened to.
So I want to share now with you, the benefit of some of that education.
I could go into some of the specific hazards, region by region, such as rip tides, frostbite, or giardia, but in the interest of keeping it simple, and leaving the tour guiding to someone else, I'll give you a few bullet points:
Stay Warm. The temperature drops fast when the sun goes down. Even in the summer. Especially in the desert. Take extra clothes, and remember socks. Dry feet are key to staying warm.
Have Shelter. You or your significant other might complain about the cost of that hotel-room/cabin/yurt, but think of the cost the families of those lost hikers suffered.
Don't Underestimate Nature. We may think we've tamed this planet, with our GPS, and our cars, and our camera phones, but remember how BIG Nature is. Those beautiful waves could crack your head open on the rocks. Snow is very pretty, but deadly cold. And a car that breaks down is as cold as the outside world, after about an hour.
Go With People Who Know. Plan outings with friends and neighbors who are familiar with the terrain, before you head out. And never, ever hike alone.
Pack It In, Pack It Out. Cascadia's not your trash dump, OK? And while I'm on the subject, while I'm sure you are a lovely person, we really can't expect to stay so green and pretty, if every darn Liberal in the USofA sets up housekeeping here. So please feel free to absorb some of our SCRAPpy environmentalism, and take it back home with you, should you find yourself thinking, “Golly, I wish my hometown was this cool.”

feeling way better

Hey there, we have a show Jan 27th at Dantes inferno, look in the weely papers for more info, we will be playing with Trashcan Joe, March fourth, Hero's and Villans, puppets, a midway and all kinda crap.
My Rubber Chicken art set of paintings are up at the Tin Shed on Alberta street as well as a few at the Concordia Ale House.
Tue. I bartend there nd it's $2 beer nite.

outta site!

$5 bucks a pound

Or as I call it, dog crack.

Kiss Bank

Kiss Bank went to frisco ta play some music, I guess they took our very own Will Workforf Ood with them.
Wierd

Saddam died?

Saddam is rubbed out before he could tell the world where the W.M.D.s came from in the first place, Huge war, run on borrowed (China) money, war profiteers, re-deployment, dead brown people and more on...OIL WARS the MOVIE!

funny how a blog tells the story backwards.

like the gentle rain washing mud from dreary puddles that were my eyes I woke up breathing fine, no pain, good mood, the nightmare is over.
Will and Caffo took care of themselves quick enough when they saw the strep commin, Bizzy got some but the witchy remedies shook the bug out, I was torched with sickness.
I was so exited that I spent a good chunk of time this morning eating things I couldn't all week.
Funny how you learn to appreciate chewing and swallowing.
That hurt so bad I had decided to find a biker bar, poke my head in the door and yelled “Hey, any of you queers wanna come tell me who's bike I just knocked over?”
I would maybe wake up six months later with no more strep throat.
My jaw still hurts to open much but I can swallow, what a blessing.
The air smelled sweet, the sky was clear, life is still a struggle but ya cant meet a challenge very well without your health.
I quit smoking over this, I look forward to looking down my nose at smokers when I see you.
Things that buggered my immune system:
stress
smoking
Things that helped me get better:
echinacea,
Nux Vomica,
Caffeine Jones,
Will , Outside in clinic,
not getting in showdown/gunfight, pills,
Vitasea, straws,
company,
being left alone,
the pot,
the other pot,
Caffeines hot packs,
And Tanya L Page MD

ick

I haven't written in the last couple days because well...I died, my whole world was a bleary daze of fitful sleep and painful blurry wakings plus a weird channeling of obscure knowledge that I can't use, i had no ability to swallow anything.
Caffeine is a healer, she innovates when her man is down.
She took a few loose socks, cut them in half and filled them with rice and or salt, she sewed them shut and now she keeps at least two in the toaster oven at all times, why? they hold heat, when I wake up screaming because my neck is swelling shut, the hot bags help a lot.
So I went to “Outside in” yesterday, it's the place where the street kids go when they are sick.
I had to find out what I had because I'm not getting any better, the fear was that I'm so damn old I may not be seen, they are set up for the under 18 crowd, it was a real gamble.
Lucky for me C.H. cheer girl Bizzy Bawdy was also sick so we went together. (one sec. hot bags are dinging in the toaster oven)
OK
We walked in and were given tiny clipboards to sign in with, turned them in and then eventually graduated to bigger clipboards, we sat down. Z was there touting her new unnecessary pregnancy.
She had a big smile and a loud voice, she seemed very proud of herself.
I looked around at the competition, they were mostly all over age for the med clinic and all were looking at Z with daggers, mostly because her mouth was running “Wouldn't it suck if they saw me ahead of all theses people just because I'm a teenager? Theres nothing wrong with me.”
Now I was too sick to swallow saliva , couldn't spit in the clinic lobby, and too weak to get out of my seat to spit outside. The ibuprofen was wearing off and when that happens my fever shoots back up and my lymph nodes swell up.
I had to use my mind to control this mess because I was so far from my comfort system at home, I decided to go to a “happy place”.

I dropped my hat down low over my face and shriveled up as best I could into my coat, I placed my hands over the pocket openings to keep from getting ripped off.
I started to imagine myself as an x ray of energy, bolting from the constellation Cygnus through the vast empty, zipping through space as two physicists bet on whether I exist or not.
I kept getting distracted from my dream by "teen baby mama drama",
“Yeah he just knocked me up and now won't have anything to do with me...he told me” You know what to do.” what an ass.”
“Didn't you say a long time ago he was an ass?”
“yeah but this is really bad.”
I couldn't keep a good image in my head in that room full of sickies (Goddess bless their hearts all of um) I passed out a lot and lost some hearing and speech.
I looked up at one point and saw a dude who must have had what I have because he was quietly standing in a corner sobbing, I gave him the universal, international dude expression for "sucks donnit" and passed out again.
Bizzy woke me up as they were asking us to leave and try again tomorrow Z was getting treated. I wished her luck. I got her back.
I don't remember the trip home or most of last night, I know it was really painful so I camped outside of Bizzys door to make sure and get a ride back to the clinic for another try.
When she got up she was feeling a lot better but offered to give me a ride anyway.
Then as she examined herself, a bunch of blood shot out her mouth like a shotgun blast, we were once again “Team sicko”.
We got back to the people terrarium at 8 am sharp and didn't really wait long at all, the staff were very kind and one of them gave me a $10 gift card for answering some questions.
The doc took a look at me and said “Yep that's strep”, handed me two bottles of pills and then made out with me for like ten seconds, I woke up and realized I was delirious and that she must have told me some stuff I needed to know, because there's no way in San Antonio that she would be making out with me. She was happy to repeat herself and tell me how to properly take the pills. I saw myself in the mirror, I sure was hansom with one eye glazed over and the other a black pothole filled with green goo.
Two other ladies came in and filled a few bottles of Dingo brand blood for their collection, they were relieved to see my viens intact, they see lot of junkies.
In the end, they didn't want to charge me, that was great because the cost is $15 and I only had a paltry $14, I gave them 10.
I thought it was over and that I would be well soon but this stuff takes a long time.
I still can't swallow solid food, I can swallow pills and that's about it, milk and water hurt real bad so I have to time eating with ibuprofen blasts.
Caffeine really is getting run down with a new baby, a sick husband, an 8 year old and no real extended family, the roomies are helping out a lot by doing my little girl's homework each night and letting the dog out for us.
Caffeine (when she gets time) has been rubbing caster oil into my neck, she made a device that shoots Oregon grape root and goldenseal into the very back of my throat and she introduced me to colloidal silver. I'm glad I picked a mate who's hobby is healing.
Funny how when Caffo (Or anyone for that matter) make a healing potion, it's not just for one thing, symptom or body part, she says, drip it in your ear, your nose, your throat and your butt, all with the same finger.
ok my symptoms are coming back, I gotta find a happy place.

Hey friends!
I lost a hell of a lot of work this week, send a cash donation with a card bearing your name and address and be eligible for a $10 gift card drawing.
Sick as a dawg c/o
clownhouse
2425 NE Alberta
Portland OR
97211
wow, Caffeine should get a gold star, she does gigantic loads of laundry, deals with a little kids keeping her up at all hours of the night, a sick hubby doing the same and for no pay and with little help.
People help but for the number of hours spent in this hell, she is all alone...at least until I get better.

still sick

I thought that my roomates had gotten me a few birds to keep me company, I opened the slits of what used to be my eyelids and noticed them.
Six foot wingspans, no feathers on the head, circling over me.

Caffeine Jones gold star awards

Awards time!

Today's Good Neighbor Award goes to Alberta Co-op, for thinking of us
when their freezer went kaput. They gave us enough ice cream to supply
two bands for a week. This was a boon to ice cream eaters, but not so
much to the co-op. I am taking donations for their freezer fund.

I am pleased and proud to be able to award 3...count 'em, three gold stars to Clown House members!
Gold Star #1 goes to Loren, for diligence in completing his chores. Even
when he only sort-of lived here, Loren has obeyed the chore wheel,
whenever he has been in town. Thanks, Loren!
Gold Star #2 (I said number two, heh-heh...) goes our new roomie, David,
(The one I hired by accident), not only for exemplary completion of his
chores, but for removing the poop that had been stuck to the underside
of the toilet for several weeks. Thanks, David, for making the toilet
safe for the dog and baby to play in, once again!
Gold Star # 3 goes to Miss Bizzy Bawdy, for her intrepid investigation
into the broken washing machine. After studying those mysterious
cleaning droids on the World Wide Web, Miz Biz had deduced that they
have a clutch, and ours is broken. Now, if anyone can tell us where to
get a washing machine clutch...
Also, please email her with donations and condolences. She has taken the
recent death of Former President Gerald Ford very hard, and she is
seeking $$ to fund a pilgrimage to DC, to pay her respects.

Finally, I have the sad duty of handing out another Take One For the
Team Award, to Dingo, who is coughing miserably in front of me, right
now. Sicker than the dog he is named after, Dingo has been trotting off
to work, as usual, while still playing the role of circus boss, feeding
his family, and putting up with me. I remember all the sick days I've
slogged through, D, and I am truly grateful for your sacrifice.

Thanks, team! Let's give them a round of applause!
And remember to congratulate our winners when you see them. Gifts of
money, food, massage, etc, would be appreciated.
-CJ

about my illness

Ok long story short:
4am the one year old sounds like a chainsaw,
I go and march around trying to get him back to sleep,
He pokes my eye,
germs move from my eye to the rest of my body,
I fall very ill,
I call in sick to work,
They say no,
I work that day and the next,
My jaw swells shut along with my eye,
I get stuck eating through a straw,
I go insane with pain and lack of sleep,
Caffo calls into my work the third day and laughs at them,
My "day off" comes and Caffeine has to do a gig dressed as me,
I had to stay home to cry and lick my wounds,
Now I have to press a hot shower head to my jaw
every three or four hours just to talk,
I now know more about trash tv than I ever thought I would.

Now, believe me friends, this ain't no picnic, I was talking to a ringmaster from California the other day.
He is a nice guy, he told me he wants to have a kid to help him run his show, I laughed my ass off.
Thats what I thought would happen too.
NOW, in my insanity caused by pain and suffering, some good came of it.

#1 I was washing dishes (day 2 at work)and in a moment of maddness I was able to comprehend the vast size and scope of the event horizon of a black hole. I saw the way time and space bend at this point, noticed how very small I am in comparison and got a good laugh.

#2. I wrote a fifth season to Antonio "the red priest" Vivaldi's four seasons, not a violin concerto, what I wrote is on the bass and has sounds inspired by the Alaskan coastal region (Vivaldi's Four Seasons was inspired by the Italian Countryside). I don't have a bass and I've never been to Alaska but hey, I'm crazy with pain and lack of sleep, when I do get a bass I'm rockin Vivaldi.
#3. I may have found a window to quit smoking YAY!

I think it may be over

I'm watching Cops, it's almost 4 am and I think the "worst night of the worst year" I can remember is almost over.
2006 will stick out in my head as the age of dissapointment and toil.
Why the show Cops?
Well, my ears are swollen shut and my glands hurt like heck and I need some comedy to distract, in this case it's a guy in acid washed jeans and a mullet getting nicked for DWI.
In a sick, "punishment like" twist of fate, I was just well enough to work sick for two days dishwashing, but too sick when my days off came to do the New Years Show.
So I've spent most of the last few days in agony, I wake up blind in one eye (sealed shut by goo)all day my hearing goes in and out as my lymph nodes swell and retract, my head is pounding and I have a full body fever, the worst part is that I'm dealing with it mostly alone.
Hours go by as I drift in and out, all I hear is the tv and the occasional sound of children or clowns doing what they do.
I feel like if I could just cut my head off I'll feel better.
I can't swallow without a ton of pain so it's really hard to sleep.
I trained myself to sleep without swallowing, it still sucks.
One good thing about this curse, I,ve gone 24 hours of more without smoking, it seems like a good start to quitting, thats kinda why I'm telling you all this...to help hold me to it.
The other reason is because you are literally the only one I can talk to, I'm all alone.
Now back to Cops and people with worse problems than I.