9/28/09

i just got puked on

dear blog
you're real good for my outward shit. you're like the thigh-attached spit bucket that i've always asked for. if you took the physical shape of someone i could lay, you'd be the borg. i think i'm better than everyone else but you. you've got mechanical facial features that would help me with irritability, given the opportunity to sport such a dung fashion. maybe i could inject you into a set of head-gear like the one that used to tear up all of piotr's pillows.


dear basement
you're alright but you're fucking creepy as fuck. the fact that my view of the other end of you is obstructed by piles of rickety dirt shit was exciting at first but now it's nerve racking. especially at 4am. also you're tiny cement side room is haunted. also if someone was in the backyard looking to do a good spook, the window is 2 feet from my face. at the same time, you're always reliable and don't judge my shit.

just died


just wait till we mash all our goods together not even funny how dumb this is going to be


p.s.

9/26/09

you probe i probe water on the moon and muddbutt

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

is a fucking mystery







9/24/09

looky looky blowjays n' cookies

first of all, excuse me while i puke:



had a good long chat last night with brosuf about the biology and psychology of desensitization. reckon the only things you can't get completely used to seeing are those that directly threaten your safety. thesis might end up being me running around the city with gooey flesh wounds swinging a chainsaw around with virtual reality consoles dangling from my ankles. that would not only reach everyone in my target audience, it would also promote the banning together of said community to take down the monster that beeez. plus the fact that lewis is as into the dark side as i am is a real nice ass grab every week.

today i was in a shit mood and thanh tried to cheer me up by buying me bubble tea except he didn't have enough money, which cheered me up more than the bubble tea would have. also my class liked my video. tomorrow i get to giggle with justin for two hours about how we don't understand shit-all single diddy of what dude talks about. reckon this weekend is gonna be a good one. gotta make up for lost time. today robin asked me if i've got gypsy tears in my medicine pouch.

p.s. thursday pet peeve people who talk too quiet.
on lighter note, just crammed my yogurt with nuts
here's some niceness. miss you seasalt. shotgun you getting dumb with me tomorrow



9/20/09







i miss my brethren:

p.s. i need to get the fuck out of here stat

eating dung dung eating

things is a bit messy. shits already stacking and i'm too hungover half the time. vancity cousins just piled in. been dreaming a lot about traveling around canada strapped to the roof of various trains. tomorrow i'm to teach a class about performance art which i know nothing about. general mood could use a pump which is swear worthy. big on coffee n' fruit. surfing on the idear of moving into a closet and flushing out straight music. i have three massive bruises on my legs i have no idea what from

bang last weekend was food

went to popeye's and ate all his oranges

thursday was tron's birthday. sissel shnipping my doo

tron's turn was a little less seamless except the fuck-ups turned out rock n' roll

friend canoodle

threw j-dills onto the locker tops. reckon he's still there.

love all yall. hope dance parties last night were 10/10

9/14/09

thanh just made me look

i bunked my schedule and have large periods of lingering between classes. wanna date?





little annie fanny is good for yall fellow pervies. boobs n' bums and secret incest.

9/12/09

fresh obsessed











j-dills and i had print break on the fucking roof and got famous