HueyBot 7: Peripheral Visionary

I have this bizarre little picture I use as a background on my
computer once in a while. Its a sort of bean bag head, button eyes and a
lumpy assortment of human teeth arranged in a ghastly, beleagured
half-grin, not at all unlike my own appearance in the mirror in the
morning. Same to you. I look a lot less Clive-Barker-nightmare-like
after breakfast, but that first glimpse can be a shocker. I grind my
teeth a lot and you know why, but aside from a couple of extractions and
a few fillings, they're holding up so far. I'd trade a couple of
bicuspids for even slightly better retention, but they allow no
substitutions on the menu. I could be doing a lot worse. Same to you.

Ever just look plainly at your face and try to decide if it represents
you properly? Am I giving my chin crow's feet by snarling at traffic too
much? They say if someone slaps you on the back while you're making a
nasty face, you'll stay that way forever, you know. Do I cast my eyes in
a manner that reveals my inner desire to use some people's heads as
bowling balls? Does this nose indicate that I'm good for $20 in a pinch
as long as you haven't burned me within the last year? These eyebrows
show that I can play "Runaway" on pipe organ? Think you'll ever develop
enough "character" to offset that mole? Do you really care to hang out
with those who'd hold a mole against you?

Like anyone else, I can be distracted by pretty faces, but I've become
less susceptible because so many of them open their mouths and ruin a
perfectly good fantasy. I get over it pretty quickly. Most of the better
individuals I know are more likely to appear on the cover of Savage than
that of People. I made Famous Monsters of Filmland #57 as "Guido, the
50-Foot Hunchback with the Radioactive Hump." I'll ignore your limp,
please forgive my varied mania. Let's shake, its a deal.

Not being all that buff in the lung department, lizards practice what
is called gular pumping. They gulp air onto their little lizard sacs and
stash extra fuel for a dash after something to eat. Gary refers to his
scaly pair getting all "prumpy." Life shouldn't be all sprints. Between
that and the gulping you people do, I often make it back home feeling
like Slim Pickens riding that big boss nuke All The Way Down. You're so
crazy, I can't even use you as a standard to honestly guage my OWN
madness anymore. Its like trying to go metric overnight. Something
special's in the air, its my sanity, please catch it. Its quite a chase
between the tubular bells, around the giant stuffed Malaysian owl and
over the childhood phobias.

And people flip by so fast...you can't make any new old friends, true,
but its coming to pass that you can't make any new NEW ones, either. A
party, pack it all into 3 hours, zoom. A 10-minute conversation in front
of a band playing too loudly in a club, zip. A tentative chat at a bus
stop, blip. An e-mail address-swap that leads to 4 exchanges and then
silence. Clunk. Appearances seem to matter less lately; there's no time
to learn who is attached to them. A full picture is impossible, rough
sketches only, please. Your hair was lovely, but you were gone in 20
seconds, your face is a cypher. Barber Alien said she was scared o' me
until she met my all-consumin' damned SWEETNESS in real-time. Ah, the
misapprehensions, false images and trials of the wind tunnel of
e-congress. Jane, stop this crazy thing.

Sure, I'd like to be cuter, who wouldn't? I could tattoo a fresh
spring rain on my left calf, bottle a clear cold night perfect for
spotting Jupiter, send volleys of roses from my fingers with one snap
after another, smell like fresh-baked cookies and it might all benefit
me less than sporting a nice crop of hair that invites a good mussing.
Then again, the next gal around the corner could be a tattooed astronomy
maven with a rose fetish and the ultimate love o' my life. Hope springs
infernal, follically-challenged or not.

I'm getting better in a couple of areas, despite the ample number of
decaying elements (don't laugh, clown-pants), even though the economies
of scale keep changing. Yep, I'm getting better all the time & will
continue to do so until the exact moment at which my head explodes. What
a shame, he seemed like such a nice boy. Too bad about that THING. He
was all prumpy when he blew. What WAS he going on about?

HellPope Huey.,
I reserve the right to be
at LEAST as weird as you.

"It was a miracle AND it was gross! Cool!"
- "The Simpsons"

"So maybe I'm over-thinkin' it,
but hey, its what I do."
-Bill Hicks, "Arizona Bay"

Huey is represented by Ozone, Patchouli, Cordite and Schnappes,
very tired Attorneys-At-Law
Go to: http://ouchytheclown.com
No, its not me, but thanks all the same.

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Original file name: HueyBot 7 Peripheral Visionary - converted on Friday, 29 June 2001, 22:32