Friday, March 31, 2006
Monday, February 13, 2006
That last post was my birthday.
Since then: Jeremy disappeared, Priscilla got married and disappeared, I disappeared then began to flicker back into existance. (Two, three, two, one.) Played with a drum machine. Liked it. Electrocution. Relocation. Desperation. (Love-or-Confusion.) Fusion.
Fission. Warm spots/cold spots.
Long day.
End of the day.
The end.
Since then: Jeremy disappeared, Priscilla got married and disappeared, I disappeared then began to flicker back into existance. (Two, three, two, one.) Played with a drum machine. Liked it. Electrocution. Relocation. Desperation. (Love-or-Confusion.) Fusion.
Fission. Warm spots/cold spots.
Long day.
End of the day.
The end.
Saturday, June 25, 2005
Tuesday, May 10, 2005
Saturday, April 02, 2005
the Bad Safari
Take your pills, because if you take your pills, there's no rhinos, and elephants are okay because they're amazing, but if you have a condition, it's bad not to take pills, okay, sugar pills or whatever -- asbestos -- no, rice paddies! RICE! Avoid the Bad Safari; seek out Good Times, and God. Confusion. Awesomeness. Bodies breaking down. Outer Space. Plums. No Surprises.
Friday, March 04, 2005
Fantastic Plague
Imagine a fantastic plague,
where everyone wears the same pants
that they bought for minimum wage
at an auto parts store
with an old bag of peanut m&ms;
the damage of such a plague might be hard to guage
when every single dime-store whore--
even then --
uses chocolate chapstick on her sores.
Yes, this could be a fantastic plague,
if only everyone visited starbucks more,
or completely stopped wondering from whence they came;
a time when joy means shame.
That sounds like a fanTAStic plague!
where everyone wears the same pants
that they bought for minimum wage
at an auto parts store
with an old bag of peanut m&ms;
the damage of such a plague might be hard to guage
when every single dime-store whore--
even then --
uses chocolate chapstick on her sores.
Yes, this could be a fantastic plague,
if only everyone visited starbucks more,
or completely stopped wondering from whence they came;
a time when joy means shame.
That sounds like a fanTAStic plague!