hey. lets, you know, whatever. sometime.

ah, you know how it goes- tie her up, slit the throat and rape. easy enough. this is something disturbing I just wrote and I sort of dont know why. thats the point the, right? yeah.

nonsensical is a word I should wrap around my pen, or in this case my hacking finger tips, and let it seep slowly onto evvvverything I write. and then, of course, the gnomes would arrive. back to Africa for all the aids and orphans.

been doing lots of working and schooling. leave house at ten arrive home at nine and inbetween make sure you fucking accomplish something.

I am currently in “phase two” of my grooming training school, in which I recieve a book on how to apply patterns on certain breeds and apprentice under a “satalite trainer” for ten days. this is all so interesting your bleeding out the ears.

The salon where this trianing takes place is a fuckingbusyasshit-affluent-area-of-gilbert salon. they are the only salon in arizona that brings in five thousand dollars a month in sales. everyone of the groomers employed at this salon average five hundred dollars A WEEK in commision. a weeeeek.

during the peek hours of the day there is the “beginning training class” taking place simultaniously with the “advanced class” in addition to the beginning class instructor, the four bather/brushers, the three or four other groomers and the customers in the front and the FUCKING DOGS EVERYWHERE. and these giant dryers that hang on the kennels and are fucking loud. and the force dryers and fluff dryers being used and dogs crying and barking and howling and scratching and I am like

maaaaaaaaaaaan. it is, shall I say, a fast paced environment and I am, as you may know, not so much a fast paced person. unless I am having sex of course.

yet, I do feel as though I am receiving a good education in the trade. the “satalite trainer” has been grooming for ten years. TEN YEARS. and been on the road with showdog people and won at, like, a million high end grooming competitions and, I mean, despite the fact that that’s pretty sad that she decided to do that with her life and its ever more sad that shes a three hundred pound dykey lady with a mole under her left eye who lives only with her dogs and her horses and has nothing to talk about except for the full body scissor she did on that Bichon last week, I think it’s good that I’m learning from someone who is, you know, real qualified or whatever.

I talk to you about work my friend cause I couldnt possibly talk to anyone else about the wounders of grooming school. or is it wonders?

you remember that book A Wrinkle in Time? man, that was a good book, it pops up in my head a lot.

chapter five in ‘the portable poetry workshop’ is all about free verse. so, our assignment, is to write a free verse poem. In conclusion, I am really stoked about this assignment and, much like a wrinkle in time, been thinking about it a lot.

you know what else I’ve been thinking a lot?

nope.

thats it, dont come this way, back up.

In India they have 3 million or so less women than men because of selective sex abortion and bride burning- in which men burn their wives because they’ve exhausted their dowry, are unable to produce a male child, or simply not agreeable.

on that note.