Tuesday, April 23, 2002

jesus christ on a haystick,
do you need pampers or what?
hong kong phooey never went out like this.
he was a super bad ass with kung fu powers yo.
learn how to not do something, by genius of the hour, mr. tim pratt.
one must be super fucking wacky to do such damage to oneself.
but it's all for the greater good, isn't that right mr. pratt?

do damage, yes sir, no sir, buckle that tongue sir.

this morning, being yesterday morning at this point and time and drivel,
i was not enjoying things.
i was hung over.
from puking horribly sunday evening
at pippi and toad's domicile.
which sucked. you know?
come on now
don't you get it?
see sunday morning started the whole crazy rollercoaster ride, sammy jargon.
which reminds me, i need to ensure that tina takes a picture of that sign by her work.
yes'm.
grandma used to tell me stories before i was a chalk.
caulk sucks.

oh yeah, troika is on my lap. no wonder i feel strange.
could be the poison ivy. and certainly not the movie starring drew barrymore.
though, yessss.
back...
sunday morning, twin peaks time, after staying at bruce's, on the night that didn't come together, the unhappy mind trip and all those crazy years back on the farm.
hopping down the lane, looking for hangnails in all the right faces.
not that there were any faces on that wonderful lane.
pagination.
dessert is never quite as good.
must concentrate and write fast, you can do eeet.
also, hit the coit tower scene, which was mighty fine.
yes'm.
nice, just like the guy with the handlebar moustache.
extinction sucks. he liked that. as well as tina's shoes.

praise be to grandma.
listen up close you sansibar.
i m going back to feed my monkey shine.

long live david helfgot.

right now i'm listening to, for the first time, the Railway Raver "Keith's Trumpets"
off of the Rephlex Braindance sampler.

must stop the timebomb.
start the healing.
heal thyself.
stop and stob the hurting.

man that how weird street fair sucked my butt.
just what i want, hippies celebrating nothing. ooh, neat, you sell crafts too?
long live bob weir.
non.

fuck that prick that won in france too.
and fuck the israeli army for going way too fucking far in this bullshit war for land rights at jenin.
tis all for nothing.
so sad.

nobody wins when everybody dies.

other good quote:
"as long as i have sauce to dip it in, i'm halfway home."

everybody is intrigued by Helga.
interesting.

schnazz.

jaz.
paz.
puss.

flat.

flat.

flat.

ass.

love your facial hair,
basic decision maker human

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