The Official Hog Blog
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
"P_____ remembers"
No one befriends him. No one that wants to be seen with anyone else that is, and when he walks by, people don't say hello, they just keep on walking and pretend he wasn't standing right there. He'll ask the time, or quote the book. He hasn't got many friends, at least. I see him with some folks every now and again, but mainly he skulks around corners and peers out at me like I was supposed to know him and kindly offer him a cigarette or even some of my slurpee.
We used to be friends, me and him, but I stopped calling him on his telephone and he forgot my name after a while. It's all good, I think he's lost his mind. Someday he'll eventually realize I was always the one who said the nice things to him, not like the his new friends. not like the man with the stuffed rabbit, or the junky he's associated with. Maybe he's got a new job, cuz I've seen him with a man who carries a suitcase around town and a tie around his neck. Ther's also been a woman with a circus face and a big belly. she aint pregnant with his baby is she? Aw, what do I care anyways?
Could he be part of the Association's henchmen? It seems like he's following some of my acquaintances around town, just watching and writing things in his little book. I even saw him with a guitar on the corner of 16th and Jurado near the Russian bakery that sells them sweet little powdered cookies that can be dipped in day old coffee even when the powder gets all up in my face and makes me sneeze like I was drinking Vernor's. I saw him with his guitar singing and I watched. he stayed put when I yelled at him to play some skynyrd.
Monday, July 11, 2005
have you listened to Def Leppard lately?
it's quite nice.
it makes me wanna rock rock til you drop.
Friday, July 01, 2005
"where have you been?" I asked.
"I've seen things I shouldn't have, Hog." SHe always called me my nickname, "I was messing about in the mailroom, sniffing for anything fishy, you know because everything has changed since the big one hit the towers, and I started seeing these packages come in with loads of stamps and very cryptic handwriting with only a few words on them. Things like: 'tonight?' and 'i'm itchy will you scratch?' It got me curious and even though that's never been good for felines, I thought to look into it. So, I started checking in the files next to the filtration rooms in the back offices, where they keep all the scab workers and nobody noticed a thing
until i read some of the new codes. Nothing stood out, but sometimes these new codes were for some big things. BIG operations, hog, like the FM Pressure Drop, the Hotel Del Taco, Project RollerTronix, or The Flying Elephant experiments! These projects included replacing human beings with another life form, maybe aliens, maybe robots, maybe even a cyborganic hybrid that has yet been determined."
"Did any of these files have photos?" her rants began to make a little sense. P____ was working on the Uplink/Manifest project at the Center for Information Control at City Hall. She made sure that files, phone calls, and packages were sniffed by bomb dogs and radiation detectors before moving to officials everywhere. "P___, did you see any pictures of these projects?"
She started to twitch, and the cigarette shook as she took a deep drag. Looking over my shoulder, I could see the man with the Bunny pull out his stuffed animal, stroke it, and leer in our direction as I prodded her for any more information, but she had shut up. She saw him and clammed up right quick.
"Hog," she got real serious for a second, "our blood is like oil to the aliens."
And with that she shut down, drew make believe in the air once again.
