The disassembling continued this afternoon, I moved on to phase two – CD’s and CD covers.  It didn’t take long, I didn’t have many displayed.  Almost Famous Soundtrack, Me First and the Gimme Gimmes, Jet, Queen, two Green Day albums and all the Barenaked Ladies CD inserts.  I listen to a vast array of of stuff you could say.  Phase three commenced immediatly.  All n on-three dimensional items left (aside posters).  Over Power cards (like Magic the Gathering, only with the X-Men), a Code Adam sticker, a Shetland Pony tribute by Melanie, old photo of me, old photo of my friend Pauline, and two postcards were among the wreckage.  I truely valued the artisitic stuff I had up though.  a Be Nicer To Nerds flyer reading “In four years, 87% of the kids we called nerds in high school will have a salary twice ours.  The other 13% will have murdered someone.  Lets be nicer to our nerds.”  Also came down a copy of the Cheshire song I wrote, it’s been posted before, and one of my first poems, it’s been posted before too.  But the key element, the one I really want you to check out, is this.


THE STUPID JERK I’M OBSESSED WITH


THE STUPID JERK I’M OBSESSED WITH
Stands so close
I can feel his breath on my neck
And smell the way he would smell
If we slept together
Because he is THE STUPID JERK I’M OBSESSED WITH
And that is his primary function in life
To be A STUPID JERK I CAN OBSESS OVER
And to talk to that dingy bimbo blonde
As if he really wanted to hear about her
Manicure and pedicures and New Age Ritualistic Enema Cures
And, truth be told, he probably does want to hear about it
Because he is
THE STUPID JERK I’M OBSESSED WITH
And he does anything he can to lend fuel to my fire
He makes a point
Of standing, looking over my shoulder
When I’m talking to the guy who adores me
And I would bark like a dog and wave to strangers
If he asked me to bark like a dog and wave to strangers
But he won’t ask me to bark like a dog or impersonate
Any kind of animal at all
Cause I’m too busy
Looking at the way
THE STUPID JERK I’M OBSESSED WITH
Has pants on
That perfectly define his well-shaped ass
To the point where I’m thoroughly frantic,
I’m just gonna go home
Stick my head in the oven
Overdose on nutmeg and aspirin or sit in the bathtub
Reading The Excutioner’s Song
And being completely confounded by the fact that I can see
THE STUPID JERK I’M OBSESSED WITH’S face
Defining itself in the peeling plaster of the wall
Grinning
And winking
And then I start yelling: “Hey, get the hell out of there,
You’re just a figment of my overripe imagination,
Get a life and get out of my plaster and pass me
The next painful situation please.”
But he just keeps on
Grinning
And winking
He’s THE STUPID JERK I’M OBSESSED WITH
And he’s mine
In my plaster
and frankly,
I COULDN’T BE HAPPIER.


Now I don’t know who wrote this, but thank you.  It’s exactly how I always feel.  And it makes me think that maybe I am not as crazy as I thought.

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