So.
What.
Now.
So what can I say to all of you now out there in radio land.
What lies behind? That way was grim, and I must be looking on into the whispy path ahead.
What lies ahead, then?
Well, work. Labor from here to there.
What is my motivation? I'm ready for my close up Mr. Deville.
It seems that I'm saving up for Thailand.
I don't take to work well, I take to work like a duck to fire, and if I wasn't building, if I was
doing something like bagging groceries, I would surely fucking off myself.
You just can't live poetically putting shit in bags for people, so I'm glad to be doing what I'm doing.
But it's just not my bag, get it? Don't get me wrong, I love it, but I can feel the sweet meats of my inner world drifting away.
You'd be surprised what lies behind this fleshy curtain. I know i don't look it, beneath my thick candy carapace lies a chewy nougat soul!!!
And it's being devoured, devoured by bland karmic demons. Energetic demons I can handle, I'll fight them off, I'll eat them alive!
But it's the banal demons, those I just can't cope with. It's those lazy sunday morning demons, the ones playing solitare and asking politily
'more tea?'. Not the supermodel devils, it's the soccer mom imps that get to me.
I mean, hey, I like tea, but I like my tea screaming.
My very personality, MY FUCKING LIGHT just disipating, not emphatically, not loudly or boldly disipating.
Just sorta....
well you get the picture.
I HAVE been close to death since I last talked to you. Once. Breifly. But you can only get close to drinking yourself to death so many
times till it becomes old hat. That way into darkness is all layed out for me, the roadsigns so clearly marked
I can walk them blindfolded with one bottle of Scotch Whiskey tyed behind my back.
Hell, it's not even snowing.
THIS IS WISCONSIN! SNOW! SNOW YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!!
It's just like that old man winter, puttering along the highway, Cupid and a drunk irishman (because they're all drunk)
honking HONKING BEEP BEEP!!! FASTER ADMIRAL SLOW!!! HIT THE GAS GRANDPA!! I WAS DREAMING OF A WHITE CHRISTMAS!!!
Now I'd settle for a white thursday.
Make with the flakes!
Only three months, just save 2 grand, live frugally, monastically, lovingly simple for three months and you'll be soaking
up new brainwaves, never before experienced. New adventures, strange and drastically different locals.
Maybe I'll just stick around there with Dude for a while, get a job in Malaysia. Something.
OH GOD here comes the long haul. CONVOY! A marathon of boring life.
It's just not my bag, y'hear? I need excitment.
I walk out my front door and I just can't help but walk away with myself. I have to wear led weights just to hold myself
back.
You can't short change the muse, Moriva, you can't stick fate with the bill and just HOPE. Cross your fingers, step back
a little macombo magic and PRESTO. Destino!
No no, it doesn't work that way.
Speaking of fucking voodoo, what was with those Wiccan neighbors who's daughter I made out with in 9th grade?
Where the fuck did they go?
They had a summer home here on the lake up from Chi. Nice people I guess, for fucking Witches.
No no, I've got no problem with Witches.
OH! I remember, they had this black fungus in their basement and the whole building had to be shut down.
Creepy. I bet it had something to do with their voodoo.
The same thing happend to that headshop in stoughton, Elves Palace. That guy was trafficing in more than bongs!
THE OLD HIGH POWERS! THE DARK!
And the place got shut down, just like that.
That's what you get for using the old powers for evil.
Do what you will, but be nice about it, y'know.
personally, I'm so flooded with Magic I shit leprechans.
You know what this means (you know what this means???!!!)
This means, no raku Kiln.
Do not pass go, do not create wonderful works of art from the primal elements of the planet.
I KNOW!
I know.
I'm disapointed too, but firebrick costs Bob Dinero, and so does Clay!
And $134 for importing only THREE rare cd's from norway? That's gonna set me back.
What's this world coming too? A guy just can't be reasonably cool without importing 134 fucking dollars worth of CD'S!!!
But I can take it.
If this is the hand that I'm dealt, so be it.
Three months? Phh, I can do that kinda time standing on my head. Might as well make it three years, I've been in the pokey before.
I'm the guy that got sent to in school suspension for eating a muffin where I shouldn't.
My permanent record lists it as gross insubordination.
That's what I get for standing on a table screaming at the top of my lungs 'Give me muffins, or give me death!'.
How do you stop one of these things?
jane, get me off this crazy thing.
called love.
What.
Now.
So what can I say to all of you now out there in radio land.
What lies behind? That way was grim, and I must be looking on into the whispy path ahead.
What lies ahead, then?
Well, work. Labor from here to there.
What is my motivation? I'm ready for my close up Mr. Deville.
It seems that I'm saving up for Thailand.
I don't take to work well, I take to work like a duck to fire, and if I wasn't building, if I was
doing something like bagging groceries, I would surely fucking off myself.
You just can't live poetically putting shit in bags for people, so I'm glad to be doing what I'm doing.
But it's just not my bag, get it? Don't get me wrong, I love it, but I can feel the sweet meats of my inner world drifting away.
You'd be surprised what lies behind this fleshy curtain. I know i don't look it, beneath my thick candy carapace lies a chewy nougat soul!!!
And it's being devoured, devoured by bland karmic demons. Energetic demons I can handle, I'll fight them off, I'll eat them alive!
But it's the banal demons, those I just can't cope with. It's those lazy sunday morning demons, the ones playing solitare and asking politily
'more tea?'. Not the supermodel devils, it's the soccer mom imps that get to me.
I mean, hey, I like tea, but I like my tea screaming.
My very personality, MY FUCKING LIGHT just disipating, not emphatically, not loudly or boldly disipating.
Just sorta....
well you get the picture.
I HAVE been close to death since I last talked to you. Once. Breifly. But you can only get close to drinking yourself to death so many
times till it becomes old hat. That way into darkness is all layed out for me, the roadsigns so clearly marked
I can walk them blindfolded with one bottle of Scotch Whiskey tyed behind my back.
Hell, it's not even snowing.
THIS IS WISCONSIN! SNOW! SNOW YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!!
It's just like that old man winter, puttering along the highway, Cupid and a drunk irishman (because they're all drunk)
honking HONKING BEEP BEEP!!! FASTER ADMIRAL SLOW!!! HIT THE GAS GRANDPA!! I WAS DREAMING OF A WHITE CHRISTMAS!!!
Now I'd settle for a white thursday.
Make with the flakes!
Only three months, just save 2 grand, live frugally, monastically, lovingly simple for three months and you'll be soaking
up new brainwaves, never before experienced. New adventures, strange and drastically different locals.
Maybe I'll just stick around there with Dude for a while, get a job in Malaysia. Something.
OH GOD here comes the long haul. CONVOY! A marathon of boring life.
It's just not my bag, y'hear? I need excitment.
I walk out my front door and I just can't help but walk away with myself. I have to wear led weights just to hold myself
back.
You can't short change the muse, Moriva, you can't stick fate with the bill and just HOPE. Cross your fingers, step back
a little macombo magic and PRESTO. Destino!
No no, it doesn't work that way.
Speaking of fucking voodoo, what was with those Wiccan neighbors who's daughter I made out with in 9th grade?
Where the fuck did they go?
They had a summer home here on the lake up from Chi. Nice people I guess, for fucking Witches.
No no, I've got no problem with Witches.
OH! I remember, they had this black fungus in their basement and the whole building had to be shut down.
Creepy. I bet it had something to do with their voodoo.
The same thing happend to that headshop in stoughton, Elves Palace. That guy was trafficing in more than bongs!
THE OLD HIGH POWERS! THE DARK!
And the place got shut down, just like that.
That's what you get for using the old powers for evil.
Do what you will, but be nice about it, y'know.
personally, I'm so flooded with Magic I shit leprechans.
You know what this means (you know what this means???!!!)
This means, no raku Kiln.
Do not pass go, do not create wonderful works of art from the primal elements of the planet.
I KNOW!
I know.
I'm disapointed too, but firebrick costs Bob Dinero, and so does Clay!
And $134 for importing only THREE rare cd's from norway? That's gonna set me back.
What's this world coming too? A guy just can't be reasonably cool without importing 134 fucking dollars worth of CD'S!!!
But I can take it.
If this is the hand that I'm dealt, so be it.
Three months? Phh, I can do that kinda time standing on my head. Might as well make it three years, I've been in the pokey before.
I'm the guy that got sent to in school suspension for eating a muffin where I shouldn't.
My permanent record lists it as gross insubordination.
That's what I get for standing on a table screaming at the top of my lungs 'Give me muffins, or give me death!'.
How do you stop one of these things?
jane, get me off this crazy thing.
called love.
VIEW 11 of 11 COMMENTS
Well, no, I played ghetto games, too - but that's when I was really little.
It is never too late to start.
Munchkin is an awesome game.
fair-weathered, malicious.....