mom's ok. good. and thanks again for getting my back.
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so I was reading soul_survivor's journal and Coltrane was mentioned so I put on the one Coltrane thing I have and it's blazing away and really isn't for morning and I'm writing in response to a query regarding my feelings toward Maxim magazine, and that she never met any dudes that thought it was lame. I mean, I guess it wasn't lame when I was in Montana in a hotel room and we'd picked one up as a joke/pass-the-time/waste-the-money sort of I'm away from home for a month and I'm in fucking Montana driving 3 days w/o a show kinda thing and right now, with pants around ankles, illuminated by the beautiful fluorescent glow of Motel 6 toilet, surrounded by what seems to be plastic molded as some old plaster wall thing...at that moment I guess Maxim was adequate to rouse the "sleeping giant" and provoke a reaction. I think it was Cathy Bell, though I know this is a lie because that was a similarly desperate/joke purchase of an FHM.
Otherwise, I'm sure it was Maxim that contained an article that may as well have been entitled, "how to do her even if she says no". As I said elsewhere, white baseball caps and tevas.
And I'm writing this brief response that's taken on a whole other life in my entry as Coltrane and 10 other people are screaming the scream of knowing mortality, like primordial ooze cum ape-man chest beating war machine death and dying and revelation and rejoicing rising and extending...it's about Maxim, it's about how I come so close to hate, straddle it like I'm gonna fuck it or kill it, so close to that hate of the kind of fucking fucks that make a magazine like that exist -- it's not even tha magazine, it's dudes in ballcaps and tevas that I know when the time comes and it's time to vote Bush out their dad's will give 'em some stupid reason why not and they'll keep that fucker for 4 more years. Believe me I want to move to Europe. I don't want to HAVE to move there.
that's why maxim's lame.

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so I was reading soul_survivor's journal and Coltrane was mentioned so I put on the one Coltrane thing I have and it's blazing away and really isn't for morning and I'm writing in response to a query regarding my feelings toward Maxim magazine, and that she never met any dudes that thought it was lame. I mean, I guess it wasn't lame when I was in Montana in a hotel room and we'd picked one up as a joke/pass-the-time/waste-the-money sort of I'm away from home for a month and I'm in fucking Montana driving 3 days w/o a show kinda thing and right now, with pants around ankles, illuminated by the beautiful fluorescent glow of Motel 6 toilet, surrounded by what seems to be plastic molded as some old plaster wall thing...at that moment I guess Maxim was adequate to rouse the "sleeping giant" and provoke a reaction. I think it was Cathy Bell, though I know this is a lie because that was a similarly desperate/joke purchase of an FHM.
Otherwise, I'm sure it was Maxim that contained an article that may as well have been entitled, "how to do her even if she says no". As I said elsewhere, white baseball caps and tevas.
And I'm writing this brief response that's taken on a whole other life in my entry as Coltrane and 10 other people are screaming the scream of knowing mortality, like primordial ooze cum ape-man chest beating war machine death and dying and revelation and rejoicing rising and extending...it's about Maxim, it's about how I come so close to hate, straddle it like I'm gonna fuck it or kill it, so close to that hate of the kind of fucking fucks that make a magazine like that exist -- it's not even tha magazine, it's dudes in ballcaps and tevas that I know when the time comes and it's time to vote Bush out their dad's will give 'em some stupid reason why not and they'll keep that fucker for 4 more years. Believe me I want to move to Europe. I don't want to HAVE to move there.
that's why maxim's lame.



VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
amitabha:
hey man thanks! I feel old and I need a cane now.. but I'm just one step closer to a legit reason to wear diapers! WOooo!
superflea:
Really glad to hear/read about your mom. If she noticed any vibes that seemed vaguely Guinness-flavoured, those were mine 
