I want a long work bench. To build orreries and tube radios. Been dreaming of idiosyncratic tie bars, mod style blitzkriegs, Smurf drinks. Drawing my finger along the surface of a chess board, thinking that the dust is probably super tiny potato chips of my skin. Sent my friend a postcard of men from Northern Quebec gutting fish, the perfect symbol of our friendship. Covered in bite marks from Latvians that crow like a rooster and bite like an alligator during moments of orgasm. Head shaved like Lux Luthor. Planning, scheming, ruminating. Learning 3D software to resurrect Tamarlane chess. Dreaming in the shapes of shadow puppets. Dressing in Italian double red mackinaw with lumberjack bling. Wanting to feel the heft of objects - the comfortable handle of an axe, the gentle willow of a whip, the cold steel of a knife, the taut string of the bow. Achieve samadhi through kyudo and arcane weaponry. Wanting whiskies like petrified liquified peat, authentic aviations with creme yvette. Floor littered in yoga mats, stretch cords, kettlebells. Give me strange fetishes in the mail, bound with ink, wax and black magic. A giant thermos of rich cocoa and a slow motion sunclipse. Send a team of spelunking Amazons to save me from the winter urge to Wunderkammer.
hyatt:
What makes Foursquare so addictive? ?