i went to dj shadow last tuesday. it was so fucking good, i nearly poon farmed.
seriously, amazing how well it was put together.
and so glad it was homemade, like chester mcfeester.
on sunday.
in heat.
for your love and hold you tight.
hotline hotline
did i ever talk about me talking my way into david cross on tuesday, june 4? after my interview, when i was already feeling hyped from the kick ass interview.
way cool jr.
i went to the winston smith opening last thursday night at 111 minna...smith being the fellow who makes all those awesome art collages, and we bought two prints, one as a gift for another fine couple who have made out acquaintance.
thursday also included a meeting at the space down in potrero to set up for the garage mahal party june 22, of which, i'm opening dj. yammer.
and, there was also the item of hooking up with the long lost mr. rolls at the event involving winston smith. fun fun fun in the city.
gracious me, i'm alive and dead and ready to kill small children with my deadbeat eyes.
and gravy.
speaking of,,,, 60s counterculture activist and woodstock host wavy gravy was kicking it live at the winston smith gathering. as i mentioned to all my colleagues in the USSR, he looks like a giant cabbage patch doll.
yes'm.
funny funny. crazy little thing called love.
and there was that other fine gentleman wearing the top hat and donning a cape...
(did i mention right now i'm listening to the inauspicious sounds of Axiom Ambient, from 1994? oldie but a goodie. i went through my cds yesterday and found i had some that were gasping for air....all i know is, these are the soul cages.)
i have one week left and i'm already steeped in bullshit due to tim pratt procrastination, so i'll have to make this short and sugary.
nomskull.
noam chomsky fucked elephantitus licker stickers.
the gentleman wearing the cape, we first encountered him last day of the dead in the mission, preaching to the faithful some sort of scary story. i like that guy. he's very intriguing. i'll have to run into him again somewhere. seems like it is my destiny.
it is your destiny.
still need to see spider-man and star wars and minority report is coming up soon too. i need love.
scratch, i still need to see that. i'm more behind than a whaler going up the stairs.
i'm more behind than that Ride song.
instead of making love, we play head games.
stinketh, i do.
stinketh, you should.
moaning and groaning and whining and pouting, it's a wonder you get any work done amidst all your hometown suffering.

i saw black hawk down last night.
shot really well...story...eh....i was like 'enough fucking war'
but then we watched the making of and all the soldiers were english or australian. it was odd...ewan mcgregor trying to do an american accent...simply awful....unbelievable how bad he was.
but like they were all brits....playing elite american soldiers. it was strange.
penman told me it's easier for foreigners to adopt a southern drawl because it requires the least amount of concentration.
penman is sending his parents tickets for a cruise from australia to here as a gift.
shoveler.
sam totally did not understand my email about chwing the same cud. i think i got it wrong but oh well. at least i'm still an american.


feckless and still smoking jackets.

oh man, on june 6..after a smooth cocktail party at mr. ted.'s house, where they always serve the finest mojitos and i met a neato former music editor to pygmies in heat, i went to lingba in potretro hill for a last minute spin and lo and behold, therein was the burbon.
i met these crazy israeli girls..they were pretty hardcore. hard and core.
the girl's name was Esti, short for Esther, which is a book of the bible and a fine fresh scent, much like irish spring.
did you know guinness beer has been brewed since 1759 in dublin.
it's amazing what you learn these days from reading the bathroom walls.
urinating and educating never felt so good.
that could be a catchphrase, if phrases still existed.
which they to don't.
so fuck you you transitive verb.

last sunday was PANDS, which, unless you're piggie and schimmie, you won't understand what that means. so screw all you nonbelievers.
but man, were those red pants sensational.
almost as sensational as those pictures i saw of young chelsea being a bit drunk in london town. where the bridges are falling down.
unlike michael douglas.

we've all got brass tacks to fill.
dennis came up this weekend.
fire in the hole.
he enjoyed america.
friday kinda sucked for the talk of the town was so not its name. shady and lame.
yucko degrasso.
munodo
saturday was fun in the city, roaming rhyming stealing and healing.
then it was on to the bbq at the toad/canned ass household saturday night.
rocking it was.
that nurse sure is a spitfire.
and she wears a slip for natural wear.
she's a fine woman.
and a lady.
nothing more than feeling.s
three times a mady.
budgetary cuts force me to interfere with you.

and you have a nice scanner!

your patron saint of jack-inthe-box

basic shame candlestick