new hair



and right before i brush too

I am slowly becoming obsessed with Dug Pinnick and Kings X

I guess it's about fucking time right? I mean they'veonly been around for 30 years almost.

My dear friends Chris and Michelle just tied the knot - in the most tasteful display of secular ceremonies and filipino traditions.

I'm very proud of them and I'll likely be a godfather.

Life is good. Strange, but good.

This is my world.

It is constant consumption, narrow minded resource usage, and feverish atonement for past industrial sins.

It is medicated reality, erectile dysfunction, restless leg syndrome, and status quo in an amber bottle.

It is genocide, war, invasion, cultural homogenization, and political passivity

it is God in its many manifestations, religious elitism, and theocratic social governing.

it is the freedom to buy, to starve, to die, to just shut the fuck up.

It is monstrous my world.

My world is yours.

Only if you want it.

And of course, you do.

I was waiting to see a movie tonight and while sitting on the side of Broadway near lincoln center I cooked this up.

It's a start to something...but what?


My mind is wholly blank.
It's suffered a surge - been blown out.
The phenomenal force of living overwhelmed my supply - my security and built heat inside my tender circuits.
Failsafes exploded in intermittent and sometimes simultaneous neuro-biological displays of supernovae.
I'm sure a real-time CAT scan of such an event would rival the finest of firework displays with added stimulation due to the mediated monitored meltdown.
I am surprised rainbows of ooze did not leak from my ears and eyes.

How could our world wreak such havok on a fortified mind?
It cannot be certain, as the event's origin was lost in the deluge of a synaptic tsunami.

I am dazzlingly brain dead.

My mind is the only means of recall for such a spectacular disaster.
This mind has since sublimated to alpha wave static and RF white noise.
I am left with a brain stem and whatever rogue nerve centers, still sovereign to my body, that on a mission to maintain my body hope to not lose their own grip on time and space.
So while the senses in my head are fully blown - sight, smell, taste, hearing - I can still touch; not to interpret, but as a means of crude identification.
My hand can still move and freely before me it searches.
For what? To what end?
Like the worm's tail split from the savvy invertebrate brain, it simply moves - inches about - without particular purpose.
It traces, but knows not the resulting design.
It experiences changes in density, but cannot comprehend the vessel or surrounding environment.
It moves about an XYZ axis, but is lost in space.

A flash!
So quick, so visceral, so overexposed.
Like a polaroid of oblivion.

A connection is made.
A clear link between erratic anomalies and -

BANG!

For a moment I smell the acrid, alkaline aftershock of a corroded battery freshly toasted.
I can taste copper notes of fresh blood in what must be my mouth.
Vision! Oh my poor vision! A heaven sent ability squandered on such base sights.
Whatever it is..err was, it lays in pieces - exploded, cauterized pieces.
Flesh and electrical burns.
Scattered about like discarded playthings.

I hear a siren.
Passing as if in that one minute clap of sensational perception I tracked a full doppler pass.

I can make sense of a sense of touch.

Water - or something like it.

Metal.
Edges - boxey.
Jagged anomalies pitting a perfect design.

Finally, before I am remanded to a pink noise prison,
A stump, with a specter of a hand with a thumb still pushing a button.

Another hand, whole, connects a fried, fleshy, odorless...
Well, not of stinking meat at least
...end with a healthy wrist.
And in that instant I remembered.

It was my fault.

The oblivion is not silent.
It is full of static.


thoughts, SG?

Upon sneaking into my basement semi drunk looking for some music gear and seeing my sixth roommate in all 6 foot 2 glory silently sleeping on our basement futon in the buff.

ok ok I was touched.


Oh angel bound in plastic powers
of fortunes sold and crystal care
I spy you lovely
I seek your warmth
come to me softly, protend my earth

I see your features hanging glare
propel my festering fever forth
I do not consort with a lady lie
unless to consent and accept my worth

You comport my senors
align my mass
you suck me in siren
come forth my lass

but no you slumber
and such states are weak
compared to jaunts
of the human streak

I want you whole giantess
I want your supinating sex



how's that my ladies of Suicidia?

For Laughs my dears


In contemplating how one would flash another online I stumbled across this

( o ) ( o )


i took the idea and ran

( $ ) ( $ ) costly titty

[o] [o] square boob

( O) (O ) cross eyed boob

( <> ) ( <> ) alien boob

( # ) ( # ) nano boob

(O ) ( O) wall eyed boob

( @ ) ( @ ) big pokie nips

(O)(O) how about really big nips

(%) (%) pierced titty

(o)W(o) I prefer my chicks with chest hair

o o flat chest


|_/ |_/ draggers

It was a bittersweet day today.

I just left my band of nearly four years.

In a situation where I stand to gain so much from making a firm decision - I become very much aware of what I had to give up.

I will make music for the world again - but I need to clear my head and heart first.

Time to put on my big boy pants and grow.

i had what could only be described as a religious experience watching The Dark Knight on friday.


Is it wrong to understand and sympathize with our anti-hero, the Joker?

of course not

he is not alone in his pursuit order with chaos.




Ennis didn't do anything for me,

However,

I have quite the man crush on dead Ledger's Joker.

It's very late and I need some sleep = but know this

my band recorded tonight.

and haVeBlue will be releasing some nuggets for you soon.


stay tuned.