i built an explosive once that decimated a tree that was probably 8 or 10 times as old as i was at the time. all i said was, "holy shit."

i blew up a television with 2 of the fuel cells used to power a cordless nailgun. they are filled with propane and another gas which expands to force the propane out, which is more explosive than propane. therefore, spent cylinders explode with a greater intensity than full ones, since when the metal of the cylinder bursts, leaking whatever gas is inside, the propane steals the oxygen needed to ignite the denser, more explosive gas (whose name somehow eludes me). they are inefficient as sole means of destroying anything since the most effective way to detonate these cylinders is incineration.

i once made a squib and strapped it to my brother and detonated it in front of my mother. a squib is what is used in the movies to simulate a gunshot. it is usually a small explosive backed by a metal plate which directs it away from the body. a bag of (presumably) fake blood is applied over the explosive charge. what works best, in my experience, is a condom and watered down stage blood (corn syrup and red#40 dye). the charge can be made out of a model rocket detonator by placing the igniter inside of a store-bought firecracker, or one (in my case) made by hand. i ran the wire from the detonator out of my younger brother's pantleg (he lounged on the couch, watching television) and to the door leading into the room in the house with the t.v. i came into the room and feigned anger and raised a pneumatic pellet gun with air in it but no ammunition... the detonator was onn the floor at my feet, just inside the door. as i pulled the trigger i stepped on the detonator and it appeared to be a seamless stunt. i was so proud. my mother told me to never do that again after she gained her breath and came out of her hysterical haze. my brother suffered a small bruise from insufficient protection from the blast, but his discomfort made the whole situation that much more realistic.

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...ahem...

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so tonight i drove on the highway and though of places i could go if i just stayed on the course i was going... fantasizing. i think it was the unbelievably good blues that was on the radio on such a drizzly and dank night. albert king. albert king was left-handed, and played a right handed guitar strung properly but upside-down. every time i hear him, knowing that makes him sound that much better. but tonight it sounded amazing and sad, because i knew that i would take my exit, and not keep going to where i felt like just showing up. it set the scene for some serious thinking. seriously.

last night i had a dream that i was cutting my hair in the back of my head, but i could do it by taking my head off and cradling it in my right hand while trimming the hair with my left. i held my head to the mirror and could see this dark mass where i had taken off my head. i could clearly see my brain stem oozing semi-clear fluid and glistening... i woke up feeling sickened.

i have so many things to say to so many people today, and i have run across none of them.