After averaging .0000005 zombies per episode the season finale of The Walking Dead finally hired more than three extras and there was massive zombie mauling; as a fan of good TV I guess I’ll start there; given that I gre up watching massive amounts of TV and the TV Guide was imprinted on the insides of my skull it is, as I’ve said to friends and fire hydrants willing to listen, a marvel I can read and write; I know TV shows that lasted half a season. I am Manimal, I also just invested enormous amounts of time watching the TV show Lost. I loved it except for the last half hour when all the characters gathered in a Church and it turns out they were all dead instead of living in a parallel universe from quantum jumping and twisting wonderfully set up by the writers and then shat on by the ending. i was disappointed to say the least. I’m into alternate realities as I believe we’re borrowing from them without knowing it, especially when I need good advice from myself and I can’t get it from the Myself that’s wandering around here, though the attraction is obvious. I may write a different ending to the show and do it with puppets; it’s like spending time watching all three Star Wars and at the end one of Ewoks unzips and a young boy emerges and starts playing a flute and all the characters disappear into his ear as he plays; some ridiculous shit that makes little to anti-sense.
I met with an animator/editor tonight for the Frenemeis video; I think it’s going to look great when it’s done and more important, ionized perfectly enough to cause the galactic alignment to pour space bucks right into the trust fund for the film’s budget tummy.
I’m moddy and slightly chaotic in crunchy and fruity colors and soundbytes; I know this about myself; looking forward to lighting up the catacombs with someone else in mature and childlike ways with compassionate renegade hands; tonight in strology class when my teach asked ‘how much do you give up of yourself in a relationship?’ one of my classmates said ‘nothing!’ which made me laugh in a way when laughs are really pity tears candy coated for the folks in the room and my teacher said ’50 %’; he’s talking from asrtology and chart analysis; and as there’s a little struggle between what is love and what is mating on earth seem to gnash a bit at the teeth I wonder if that percent fluctuates from moment to moment from 50 to 897% to infinity percent. I want to close that gap between what I call Close the Hatch on the giddy inner madness to mate and the Light full of Sex that makes saints blush; there has to be a blending, to swim and walk at the same time. I am dubbing the next phase of life LeeTrek III: The Search for Meaningful Sex, or Spock.
I threw my back out last week while rehearsing for a show where I had to support a very strong dancer who had to throw herself into me, like doing completely illegal squats; I have ultimate respect for dancers; they’re football players without helmets as far as what they do to their bodies; and they’re strong as three of me tied together.
one last one; mr personal trainer, who is French Haitian descent and very robust, went to Florida on vacation around the same time as the shooting incident down there; he said he felt pretty tense walking around down there; another example of the glory and magic of guns and racism blended together to create 1953. Hopefully the Mayans will sweep this junk away when they show up come December.