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Facebook Updates, Nov-Dec 2008

Rufus McCain is like a rhinestone cowboy.
Rufus McCain sleeps.
Rufus McCain is surveying the carnage of November.
Rufus McCain is staring blankly out the window, drinking bad coffee, watching a train rattle by under a pale November sun.
Rufus McCain is coughing.
Rufus McCain watching a flock of geese fly by.
Rufus McCain is skating on the thin ice of modern life.
Rufus McCain thinks he might like to go to the show, to feel the warm thrill of confusion and space-cadet glow.
Rufus McCain is reveling in the weirdness of it all.
Rufus McCain is riding the five-year-old birthday party wave that has been swelling for the past several weeks and is about to wash over the city of Seattle.
Rufus McCain is looking out the window at the Columbia River heaving through the misty wastelands and fallow fields.
Rufus McCain’s daughters are crawling on him while he attempts to sit at the computer.
Rufus McCain had to sing triple the usual number of lullabies to put Joan to sleep tonight.
Rufus McCain was defeated by November.
Rufus McCain went to the dentist, picked up a 40lb bag of large breed puppy food, shoveled the remnants of the last 40lb bag from the back yard, and then returned to work.
Rufus McCain is simulating working.
Rufus McCain is perusing “Semantics and Knowledge Organization” by Birger Hjorland.
Rufus McCain is chasing the phantasmagoric wild geese that inhabit the rolling woodlands of his interior being.
Rufus McCain is reading The Probability of God by Stephen Unwin.
Rufus McCain is listening to the rain.
Rufus McCain blew out his sprinklers. Luckily Spokane has had mild, Seattle-like weather of late and the winter freeze has not set in.
Rufus McCain is afflicted with a nagging sense of unreality.
Rufus McCain is trying to be helpful.
Rufus McCain is carrying an armload of laundry up from the basement.
Rufus McCain is turning on the lights,eating oatmeal with maple and brown sugar,drinking a strong cup of french roast,counting money,glancing out at the fog-shrouded world.
Rufus McCain–after being sucker-punched by September, kicked in the groin by October, and body slammed by November–is stepping confidently into the ring with December.
Rufus McCain keeps losing things.
Rufus McCain is taking out the garbage.
Rufus McCain sometimes feels like a nut; sometimes he don’t.
Rufus McCain is watching the snow turn into rain.
Rufus McCain is sprinkling ice-melt on the front steps.
Rufus McCain is searching the basement for his snow boots.
Rufus McCain was defeated by the basement.
Rufus McCain just heard Tink say, “That Santa who we took our picture with was the real deal. He was the real Santa who delivers presents to everyone.”
Rufus McCain has been having trouble ordering lattes at drive-thru espresso stands due to the window of his pickup being frozen shut.
Rufus McCain just saw the doctor who delivered Tink riding his bike in the snow wearing short-sleeved scrubs.
Rufus McCain smells like gasoline and has a slightly injured hand, true, but he triumphed over the snowblower which was at first reluctant to start.
Rufus McCain aches in the places where he used to play.
Rufus McCain and Mrs. McCain have established a base camp in their basement reclamation project. Also — just printed out 100 copies of the Xmas letter, with narry a paper jam!
Rufus McCain hasn’t done any Christmas shopping. Nada.
Rufus McCain wants to play in the snow.
Rufus McCain smells like gasoline and chocolate.
Rufus McCain is planning to go sledding soon.
Rufus McCain just watched four episodes of Saving Grace with his in-laws while his wife, children and dog slept. Holly Hunter naked. Abraham and Isaac revisited.
Rufus McCain must sleep.
Rufus McCain got stuck in the snow today and four women, including one who was pregnant, helped push him free.
Rufus McCain went sledding.
Rufus McCain is concocting Christmas presents out of whole cloth.
Rufus McCain just lied to his daughter about a Christmas present of hers she spied him working on.
Rufus McCain is looking for that one Christmas present he put in a safe place and forgot to wrap.
Rufus McCain got a bunch of great shit for Christmas!
Rufus McCain is thinking about tunneling through the snow to freedom somewhere south of the border.
Rufus McCain is feeling a bit claustrosnowbic.
Rufus McCain must have a mind of winter/ To regard the frost and the boughs/ Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;// And have been cold a long time/ ….
Rufus McCain, nothing himself beholds Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.
Rufus McCain is brushing his teeth and considering the possibility of flossing.
Rufus McCain strained a number of muscles and/or tendons shoveling snow today and is now self-medicating with Jameson’s Irish whiskey.
Rufus McCain is once again awake when not a creature is stirring among the rest of the household, not even that mouse in the basement.
Rufus McCain am isbivalent.
Rufus McCain missed the Bernard St. bus, then fell head over heels while running to catch the Grand Ave. bus, then dusted himself off and walked into a nearby Starbucks.
Rufus McCain is shoveling snow, eating, sleeping, shoveling more snow, repeat.
Rufus McCain recalls a time when there was no snow, long ago.
Rufus McCain must sleep.
Rufus McCain is celebrating the 7th day of Christmas.
Rufus McCain is unkempt.
Rufus McCain just had a very cordial encounter with an inebriated Zags fan.
Rufus McCain passed out shortly after the ball dropped in Times Square and then woke up at 3am and couldn’t get back to sleep.

Comments

  1. Anonymous says:

    re: . . . aches where he played— Silverback has a motorcycle hip and shoulder, a Judo knee, a logging back, a steer hoof nose, a box of welding rod toe plus a few that haven’t yet sufaced, so get ready for more.

  2. Anonymous says:

    It is 6 am and Frances is awake.
    Frances is thinking of joining the cabinet.
    Frances is thinking of becoming dictator of the world.
    Frances is thinking of Bronwyn, the girl he loved in primary school
    Frances imagines having sex with the boy who bullied him in grammar school and finds it an unsatisfying experiene.
    Frances is having porridge for breakfast.
    It is 9.30 and Frances is making his official phone calls.
    Frances notices fruit flies in the kitchen and wonders if they are from the security services.
    Frances has just invented a disposable car.
    Frances has gone to meet his friends.
    Frances is home, exhausted from counselling his friends and a trip to the supermarket.
    Frances has decided to finish with his crazy girlfriend.
    Frances has just taken 14 life extension pills.
    Frances has eaten some fruit.
    Frances has eaten a tin of Quality Street.
    Frances started to read an article by an eminent scientist and decided he thought of those ideas decades ago.
    Frances has changed his mind about his girlfriend and rung her.
    Frances is microwaving some fish and vegetables.
    Frances is thinking.
    Frances is going to sleep at 11 to think some more.

  3. Anonymous says:

    Frances remembers he is called Francis.
    Francis forgot to say he had a bath.

  4. Rufus McCain says:

    Silverback: Yes, but you came of age in a much more dangerous and violent time and place. All that trauma to your body was just expected rites of passage for young men in your walk of life. Don’t you think?

    France(i)s: An interesting contribution, thanks. Perhaps I’ll see you on facebook.

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