Beyond the crumbs are tables covered in linen and china. Silverware and eyeballs staring down the presented carcasses. Whoever seeks the excuse me wins. Is saved. Will live on. Next room. Continue.
I don't use my nostrils enough to speak french. Pain au chocolat.
Carry a lighter to see in the dark, arrive at the toilet burn my dick with the heated metal, held in... Read More
How are you? I was so close to booking tickets to Italy last week to see Mondo Cane. I don't think it will be released and I'm really curious to hear them. If I wasn't saving for a flat right now, I would have been there in a heart beat.
There are few things good about being stuck in the middle of nowhere.
And one of them are the storms. I'm not speakin' tornados and hurricanes..
I'm talkin' run of the mill thunder storms. But fucking hell do they speak loud.
Right ear hears strange shaking.. step outside every dog in a 10 mile radius is going ape shit.
The sky ignites in shattershot spurts,... Read More
The boom mic is in the cameras view. It's amateur hour. It's celebrated, it's horrendous, it's the real deal.
We sit in a tent, with multi-colored lights, next to a bar packed with the cheapest of alcohol. This family lives in the woods in a cabin with Playstations and HDTV's, satellite radio routed from the Pentium Dual Core.
Gathered 'round picnic tables, bbq into the... Read More
I havn't even attempted to hear the new Tomahawk..not after Peeping Tom
but str1ppermom is all about it..I think
and yes..we are still rockin it!
he asked about you awhile ago..if you were still on here or not
and...what the fuck was u with your blog
where were you?
It caved in as the new assortment became regularity, found self somewhere between contrived grays of distant, not carings and fuck the lot of you. Shambled messes amongst the cacophony. Days work themselves into mathematical formulas, this will do-then this, then hopefully amount to distilled, ashamed, alone patterns of excess tittering along the unstable. Countering calculations with formulas so wonderful to ingest. Ramifications of spotlight... Read More
The phone rings in vibrate. Continuously, for hours on end, sits and shakes on my desktop.
I am the part of your body you are disgusted with.
That piece of your face that you'd wish would go away.
Only mask invited to the death parade.
Hold our banners, carry our floats.
All of the spectators carry eggs, and lettuce, and tomatoes..