patasadoo

 

patasadoo.blogspot.com

a new technical repository for sadoo activity

deranged tales from a sadoo stoodio

 

galadap gets the job

galadap and mamare sitting in the talkatorium discussing whether to hire an ornamental hermit   mamas recently returned from the endives where she was fishing for the fossilized souls of sixth century apophatics and the trip was a stunning success and mamas in a rare great mood  capable of conversation and undistracted by the invisibles and the principles and governance of the amusement parks of milith and lephistopheles 

which lawn though do you think it should inhabit   cowchim suggests the northwestnorth  queermendungjia suggests the northnorthwest  wangsiri suggests the westnorthnorth  tubeetu suggests the westwestnorth         

eastnortheast

but nothing suggests the eastnortheast

ım suggesting its suggestion being suggested in the lack of suggestings

a kind of apomancy   hm

brumy could apply

brumyll scare our intruders

they cant see it

you think brumys your imaginary friend but thats imaginary   brumys as real as bernardine soares

weve had this debate before

well ive got some conjunctio to attend to   ill leave things in your capable hands

do you want to at least interview the shortlist

ill just get rid of them if i dont like them

and mamas off like a zome or a fluffiness or a gravid fomentress or a braigetoír or a bewrayed pergola or the hegassen at a harrying frolic

wanted

ornamental hermıt

at the house of mama

eastnortheast lawn access only

room and herbs and potions

random stipends possible for sundry services

must have a minimum of three centuries experience in uselessness and absurdity

unparalleled intelligence creativity wit vitality and scatological prowess required

other than this house of mamas an equal oppootunity employer

and doesnt distinguish based on sex gender religion race ethnicity class age sanity ability langwich species aesthetics sentience politics physicality or existence but only on criteria unnameable unconscious subjective unknowable

galadap likes the ad so much

she decides to apply herself 

dear esteemed outcats at the house of mama

ım an outcat of outcats and ı do dada like mama   ım funnier than the nınth and thırteenth century combined and ım so past intelligence its forgotten it exists   ı shit 81 times a day and each is a delırıous perfectıon that seızes the apple of clarıty and floods the world with the snobbıshness of madness   we are the creators of the cosmoses behind ın above and below the cosmos and the ıncarnate dream of energy that turns the numinous into unconcerned anarchıc grounds of deluging eyes   ı am the polyprefixes of all substantives   they are the omnisuffixes of all copulatives   we are the panaffixes of the destruction of grammar syntax meaning and langwıch

yours sincerely

galadap

she gets an interview and decides to wear the chromatic liquid buffoonery she picked up in pondicherry during an archaic monsoon

lovely outfit says galadap as galadap enters the interviewatoria

why thanks so much says galadap my dıno picked it out for me

oh you have a dıno exclaims galadap scribbling in her notebook furiously

ı think every selfrespecting ornamental hermıt should

are you selfrespecting though

to the extent respects a function of spectacular yes

and to the extent its not

ah theres the grub

havent washed my hair in months

no behind you walking by the window

theyre everywhere   lets say youre doing your ornamental hermıt thing in the eastnortheast and twentytwo grubs descend from an afflıction   tell us about a time you havent   what are your three greatest devıancıes   give us an example of how you dont do anything   describe how youve maliciously and gleefully destroyed a team   if you disagree with someone what kind of shıt do you annihilate them with and in what manner

ıd apply the golden ratıo but not the golden rule  divide the grubs by seven golden pottos extracted from some golden maidenhair  subtract a goldeneye pıe  and eat the remainder with some golden handcuffs

when we fıre you how will you respond

ı have a sauce for that

and galadap and galadap gab it up in the interviewatoria until they smell mama on the eleventh floor and absquatulate to the absurdatory

deranged tales from a sadoo stoodio

the lower house of

lumınatı

galadap wakes on the twentysixth of haha to thirteen outhouses on the eastnortheast lawn of the house of mama   its not my deathday or saintday or birthday she thinks mamas not under her trixter sign   cranishs in akpatok   the luminositys been repaired   a coven of jakes she chortles and spends breakfast wondering how to approach them   ill just eavesdrop for a while and see if i find out anything

on the fourth of décervelage she overhears some turds gossiping in the ninth privy   ı shall name them now says galadap though shes unsure which name belongs to which crapper

ooboo   clıtamen   sylıphıs

alıs   occultatıon   螺旋

oupÿpuo   شٹ   ınutılıous   bromıde 

sadoo   khazı   wc vulg

some muffets later round about the sixth or seventh or eleventh of pédale galadap relocates to the eastnortheast lawn  pitches a marquee  and situates herself before the erstwhile commodes and primarily though discreetly before the ninth and says

ı apologize in advance if ım wrong but while ı address all of you ı address the nınth in a particular way and the nınth ı believe is 螺旋 and 

gurgles and fomentations heard from dispersed depths 

and ıd like to thank you all for being here and honouring us with your presences  galadap has fortunately taken the module on necessaria communication tactics & strategies during her certificate on merdre and everythingness and knows how to address her guests on this occasion  ıd most specially like to thank jejunumıa and duodenumus as well as my many personal guardıan bacterıal spırıts and the uncountable very tıny thıngs that keep the garderobes and reredorters and all their diverse & active family members full and satisfied

螺旋 rises from its steaming transformations and a crown of turds wobbles on the mind of excrement 

there are streams of consciousness and constipations of consciousness   we 13 poo along the spectrum from extreme blockage to extreme stream   dotter of mama  order us from the one extreme to the other correctly and you shall inherit

ooboo   bromıde   khazı

螺旋   occultatıon   alıs

sadoo   clıtamen   ınutılıous    شٹ

oupÿuo   wc vulg   sylıphıs

guesses galadap what do ı inherit?

als hätten wir das alles schon mal gesehen

oh youre deutsche danskers

the more become members of gonad capitalism the more spiritmass has to retreat into the lavatories of night to compensate and balance the books of meat   since all this pooing and going is encapsulated in the defecatory arts we are the council that collects the data from our populated family and weighs the outputs of whonymity analyzing them for nutritional dishealth and distribution and health and the conditions of war between cataphatia and apophatia

ım so extra delighted to have this oppootunity 

we have a smelly song wed like to sing you if youll toilet us

oh please

among many other callings its called potty party

the 13 councillors of scat assemble their brains in guggling pattern round galadap and break into sonic forms never before dumped in whonym ears   and the guest  this specimen of the house of mama for whom its not saintday nor birthday nor deathday  enters kaleidoscopic reveries of boundless dimension and passages later when she awakens on the floor of the preservatory she records 

tercet latrine

if you drink some mydaleine

and turn a little green

dont turn to the sentine but the ______

tercet loo

look! in the delftwares a heap of doo

i dont have a clue

who wouldnt use the ______

tristich shitter

being the houseofmamas dotter

you never go atwitter

that langwichgutter  you just go a______

tristich littlemysticsroom

when youre abloom with spoom

but tranced before godheads holy tomb

its a choice      doom or zoom to the other ______

quatrain closet

nothing in lifes so dulcet

from the outset or the offset

as the lower faucet

we turn on in the va cua train ______

and the days the cusp twixt merdre and gidouille  edging toward the origins of the slow dump of light  and galadap rises and the suns a luminous turd and she turns toward the eastnortheast lawn and the councils gone and there are only as usual some ornamental hermits frolicking in the city of sizzling folly

deranged tales from a sadoo stoodio

the quaker oats company

galadaps dada wouldnt die   everyone had lost count of the number of times they knew this was the last week and they cast their spells and said their prayers and drank their whisky  each according to its kind  and then   a bra cad a bra   there dadad be  asking for his bit of tortured chicken or bowl of muffets from that secret storehouse of 2391 boxes he had ordered from the quaker oats company after hed received inside info  quite accurate it turned out  that muffets was going to be discontinued globally forever

probably because it doesnt have enough sugar

it doesnt have any sugar

you cant have breakfast without sugar

it didnt keep up with the times

they shouldv added sucrose and made those shredded pucks blue and green and red then they wouldv sold

oh its alright   i got my 2913 boxes   i figure i have to live  at a rate of two muffets a day  till 151 to run out

2391 boxes dada

and thats the way it went

hed fall out of his bed in the night and bang his head and go to emerg and everyone would say well now thats it but a few days later hed be back at home dozing in his chair   his potassium levels would leap and hed be rushed to emerg and everyone would say well now thats surely it but a few days later hed be back at home looking at his unfinished muffet and wondering why the quaker oats company discontinued such a perfect cereal   it wasnt because he didnt like sugar   the muffet would go in the bowl and it would be covered with imprisoned cowmilk and then a quarter cup of golden yellow sugar from the redpath sugar company would get heaped on top and then 4 fluid ounces  though theyre not that fluid  of golden corn syrup from the beehive company which as far as we can tell isnt a company but is a product of  were not sure of this  ach food companies  which in turn is owned we think by associated british foods  which in turn is owned by wittington investments  which in turn is owned by the garfield weston foundation  which makes it sound like a charity  which is more or less owned by a bunch of western weston colonialists  but who can own corn really   dunno  you try googling who owns beehive cornsyrup and see what you get   i mean try another browser and you get the st lawrence starch company  which btw got into a lawsuit with the canada starch company as to which of their brands of corn syrup was fed to the dionne quints and then it seems like st lawrence and probably beehive and maybe the entire river & god knows the quints too got sold to bestfoods which seems somehow to have a sibling named hellmanns and the whole theybang no doubt including a lot of other carcinogenics was sold to cpc international or ingredion or cornproductsrefining or texaco or mazola one or all of which in one of its or their iterations was named the worlds most ethical company which godalmighty cant be true which was sold to unilever which owns a fuckofalot      anyhoo this cornsyrup  only ganesha knows who owns it  would get poured on top of the whole cancerous mess and he fell off a ladder reaching for david copperfield  dickens was the only literature he knew   look were using the pasttense already  dickens and the bible  and some leg infection would blow up his leg to five times the normal size and creep toward his heart and everyone would say well its gotta be time now and a few weeks later hed be watching the birdies from his rocking chair and chuckling to himself birdies look at the birdies the point is we dont recommend you google beehive corn syrup

we should do him in the way trintignant does riva in amour   thats the way its done  thats love

thats murder brumy

murder love whats the diff   trintignant does it

thats in the movies

trintignant was done

thats in the dying

death imitates art

rewilding

how long do you think someone can live on cornsyrup and incarcerated geneticallymodified harrowed chicken

probably til its muffets run out

when ı kick the muffets ıd like to be 81 and sleeping in a hammock on sable island

a cute little horsie nibbling on your gonads

thats the way to bite the lust

old muffetlovers dont die  they just wheat away

oh brumy could you be a sweet dino and get me a bromide martini with nine cherries

& dada doesnt dıe

for dada is forever

deranged tales from a sadoo stoodio

theatre of papaya

a wayward papaya puppeteer vendor knocks like a windshear about the upperfloor luminosity at least it knocks galadap infers to brumy and theres some faintly audible chuckling its going to come in anyway says brumy and brumys right and the peddlar glomps down toward them like a senior senator

you may think from my reputation and it wouldnt be outrageous that i only deal in papaya puppets  or puppeteers  the ambiguitys to my advantage  but  and here i share with you what ive shared with none  my passion from the earliest days has been the seeds   those perfect black wee shiny bitter squishy spheres that slide down the throat as easily as chironex fleckeri and are partners with wormwood in digestive passage   ive been so obsessed with them since birth i cling to the papaya puppet trade to allow me to never stray far from my beloved seeds so they are perpetually intimate and i feel their dreams and pains more than mine   they are my mentors foods slaves art langwich   for no one believes in communication anymore   its extinct as dinos   brumys scales flutter   langwichs now the province of mangos and kohlrabi  kamut and hedgehogs   and nothing of whonyms  whove abandoned language and only mimic in their deaths what was once a vitality  reciting fossilized scripts from cultural middens   and so i listen to my papaya seeds like a shaman listens to the trees

how much asks brumy offended by its extinction

oh you misread me dinorama says the dealer

what a waste of meat mutters brumy

i hear that says the dealer

look says galadap we cant quite say you broke in but youre definitely here without a permit and notwithstanding our common belief in the communality of things were all forced to function in seemingly abiding structures that decry such belief and hence make its practice vaguely schizophrenic and pervasively random

we dont need more cartesian superciliousness wearing love makeup in other words says the dealer

thats not quite what ı was saying says galadap

what shes saying says brumy is that youre a charlatan

im a humble mage of the seeds of papaya says the dealer how could i be a charlatan when i offer my wonders for free   your accusations a projection of your inexperience in the worlds of our trade

there are no snakes in iceland says brumy

of course thats not true and never has been says galadap there are snakes in the alþingi & alþingishúsið  snakes in the kirkjuþing & kirkjuráð  snakes in the safnahúsið  and of course wyrms of all kinds distributed equitably among all the myriad spaces

wind and ice are snakes says brumy

all the more reason to advance to the langwiches of seeds says the dealer may i offer you some

the gap between the narratives of media and the narratives of art is now so large dinosaurs can get through it says brumy

all the way from the triassic says galadap

to announce themselves in the present as necessary abominations says brumy monsters of integration

lets say i give you nine  half for each of you  and the only thing i ask in returns that you watch a short little papaya puppet play of my own composition   its called theres just not enough in its void and it was created when microdosing a concoction of methyl​enedioxymethamphetamine cannabis lysergicaciddiethylamide psilocybin and pharmahuasca in a treehouse on a coracle on the ganga

theres just not enough in its void

or

blood squirt

a very short tragitragedy

in nine acts

by

a wayward papaya puppeteer dealer

characters

many papayas and their pulp

fire  ice  air  theusual

sonics & the senses

smoke n fashion

darkness

... and starring ...

papaya seeds

setting

an altered preservatory in the house of mama

a country road   some numbers

the eternal crepusculars

acts one through nine

the dealer disappears in a mirage of smoke in the preservatory

and in their place a firepuppettheatre

the spectators gather around its heat

a parade of papayas walk on the sea of fire without harm and take positions

the nine papayas are donned in garish warrior ice outfits but do not melt

cacophanous lights and atrocious darknesses

screeching and irreconcilable sonics

smells to faint by and a clammy energy creeps throughout the room

the nine skin one another and their pulp whirls into the air

the seeds of the nine form iridescent constellations of suggestive semantemes

we loved it squeals galadap

speak for yourselves says brumy

we were brumy   oh well take some

are you degeneratively insane says brumy

and the dealer crumbles to ash and the ash vibrates into nine papaya seeds and brumy and galadap divide them among themselves

well regret this says brumy

regrets the new joy says galadap

that may be says brumy and if it be joys also the new desolation

and desolation the new giddiness

and giddiness the new abominably unimaginable affliction

nothing fried nothing pained

a witch in rhyme saves nothing

a word of the sand births doo in the tush

the evils in the fairytales

the gnarly turd is the norm

youre a bite for bored ewes

and the friends eat their allotments and brumys eyes get big as bromides and they transmogrify into a flagitous papaya with teeth the size of a spinosaurus and it tears galadap apart like bánh tráng and theres neither evidence nor memory of galadaps existence and brumy settles into the house of mama like a tapestry