banana fall


Today I am to address a topic other than bananas, a move that may shock and appall my loyal and beloved readers, and for which I apologize, though not without a certain deeply repressed sense of glee.

Today I address another topic close to my heart.


Earwax! What's that you say? (As you may say if you have a lot of said substance.)


I have long been fascinated by earwax, ever since I was a child: by its many textures and colors, by its thick ooze, by its fragrance. It delights me to insert a slender finger into the ear and draw my nail delicately along, like an archeologist digging for evidence of the glories of the past.

Surely, this is a sensual pleasure, a lost art! I always examine the ears before the rest of the bodies, observing the individuality of my intimate discoveries. Some have aught but the thinnest sheen of oil. These, I discard before further exploration. Others reward me with globules of yellow gloop.

Ahh but the prize, the prizes of my collection, are those from whom I withdraw and find my finger crowned by hard dark matter, brown, black or red in tone, crusty jewels. When I bury these bodies, it is with reverence, and with joy.
banana fall

Writer's Block: Why Did You Friend Me?

It seems that the bananaGods now demand that I answer this, the question that intrigues, baffles, and occasionally enrages my dear, beloved visitors. But what a question! Why do any of us do anything? How deeply shall I scour my subconscious, reveal to you the dark corners of my psyche, confess to the bodies buried under the back yard? Why did bananatragedy strike on that fateful day, and why did you chose to wear that particular pair of pants this morning?

There are other common questions, and I shall skip to these as the bananaanswers to them are shorter.

Where did you find me?

I often wonder if this is a trick question, as the answer is simplicity itself. I found you on bananaLiveJournal.

Take me off your friends list!

This is not a question, it is a demand.

Do I know you?


Why Did You Friend Me?

Because I wanted to. Something in your list of bananainterests, something you posted or commented, your username or icons, something spoke to me and called for you to be added to my bananafriends list.

That is the surface reason.

Let me tell you a story to illuminate the darker caverns of understanding, where comprehension only glimmers in the long, far distance.

One day, I was walking to a fair, when I saw a man walking a dog with two legs. The dog had two legs, not the man, although I do often see men with two legs walking dogs. The dog with two legs was lead by the man, past a child eating ice cream from a cone. The child wore red boots. In the park was a woman with a red scarf, and I followed her to the tent of a fortune teller.

I bought a banana and sat eating it as I surveyed the bananacrowd, the endless mass of bananafaces allegedly attached to bananahuman beings.

The woman left the tent, tears of joy in her eyes. I followed her through the crowd (I liked that red scarf a lot), and saw as she ran across the road, and was hit by a speeding ice cream truck.

Then I came home and sat, thinking on what I had witnessed.

Then I ate another bananabanana and made this journal.
Bite Me


One day, the princess had a craving for peanut butter, jelly and BANANA sandwiches.

In her kingdom, BANANAs were so rare that slaves had to be sent out to fight evil trolls and dragons so as to collect BANANAs from the magical BANANA caverns in the far far north. Thousands died to fill the belly of the princess, who rolled around in the jelly and celebrated her gluttony like a pig in a pizza joint.

Eventually she made the mistake of sending out a slave whose family where elvish wizards, and one morning she awoke to find herself turned into a giant BANANA.

She looks happy in this picture, doesn't she?

That was taken before the elves descended on her and turned her into a BANANA split.