Without drama, there would be no me
...apparently.
fuck.
what is it about this time of year, a sense of foreboding almost. at least, it has been the last few years for me.
so yeah, there it is.
my current contracting gig is going to come to an end.
it's weird.
just fucked up. yet, strangely, there was a part of me that wasn't surprised by the news. i had a feeling something was amiss.
i've had these feelings before, you see, and i've been right.
i like to think my sensory perceptors are in tip-top shape these days, having suffered through seemingly endless, fun-filled 'parting of ways, at will', if you will.
william.
or as brigitte calls him, mr. F.
flavor flav that is.
have you seen that show? The Surreal Life? it's surreal all right.
goddamn.
i feel like Charlie Brown, i swear. Why is everybody always pickin' on me?
Aw Gee, indeed!
but hey, while i sometimes do get wallowed in the mire (hee), i somehow manage to find the sunny side of the street (ho) nearly every time. it's my destiny, luke.
so you see, somehow i'll emerge.
at least i know the endgame now.
now i can play it any way i see fit.
and so i shall.
and so we will.
and so.
yes.
right.
Riders of Rohan! Ride!
shit (golly)
just call me a government agency junkie.
no less than three did i visit in two days.
yes, yes.
tis true, mr. sadr.
1 comment:
Hey, Tim! Did you get my E-mail about the CD Club? Do I have the right E-mail for you? Do you really exist or were you just a DJing mirage on the playa? Inquiring minds want to know. Get me at
SHAWN(at)ENTROPORIUM(dot)COM.
OK bye
PS Flav is a master, yeah?
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