statuesque persons
PLAN 9/HIGHER GROUNDS, CHARCOALVILLE.
I need a teleporter, and a sack of food. i renounce all attempts at cleverness. riots en france, and why the fuck is it still so warm? saint-sebastien! o shoot me full of arrows. this is cleansing (dare i say) cathartic (only because i know greek am i allowed to use that word, bitches.) my head is SO STAGNANT right now, despite vladimir and franz's best efforts to cheer me up. you know what it is? i need a new job. i was looking down at myself this morning, standing in the closet, and it's not that i havent thought this before, but i was thinking damn i'm hairy and then WHOA i'm a MAN, no longer a child (very very child, as angelino would say.)
in half an hour i have to go to work. until then i will entertain you with dancing!
speaking of dancing, the dance party the other night was a fucking blast. (outside, this is the best place for peoplewatching, i see gabriel in thirty years) we arrived fashionably late, of course. this is gabriel and benjam and i. we'd just killed dylan's keg from the night before (doeg helped) and damn i'm jumpy and had a wonderful beautiful blooming conversation. along the way to dylan's the iris Immortality by Dr. Lloyd Zurbrigg was spotted, and this happened also last year, I remember seeing the same one, and last year it made me think the apocalypse was coming, but seeing it again made me think not so much. anyhow, gavin was spinning when we got there, and everyone but everyone was there of all our long-sundered friends (the kind with whom we smoked weed in humphreys and the graveyard, way back when) but NOBODY WAS DANCING. gavin's music: too poppy. if only there were flameflowers hanging from the ceiling! but then andrew got on, and the confluence of andrew and us dancing for dancing's sake, because you see we are dance pioneers, got all the turks and everyone moving and nobody was grinding and everyone was doing the dance of plenty, even if nobody but gabriel and i were pagans: he is norse, a disciple of loki, and i am a fierce doric greek, dedicated in particular to demeter's service. trickery and fertility make the dance bloom.
what kind of pagan are you?
ps i have a political agenda now. i forget what else comprises it, but i advocate immediate use of force against the ruling regime of Zimbabwe
also the immediate use of force against the oft-violent obese
I need a teleporter, and a sack of food. i renounce all attempts at cleverness. riots en france, and why the fuck is it still so warm? saint-sebastien! o shoot me full of arrows. this is cleansing (dare i say) cathartic (only because i know greek am i allowed to use that word, bitches.) my head is SO STAGNANT right now, despite vladimir and franz's best efforts to cheer me up. you know what it is? i need a new job. i was looking down at myself this morning, standing in the closet, and it's not that i havent thought this before, but i was thinking damn i'm hairy and then WHOA i'm a MAN, no longer a child (very very child, as angelino would say.)
in half an hour i have to go to work. until then i will entertain you with dancing!
speaking of dancing, the dance party the other night was a fucking blast. (outside, this is the best place for peoplewatching, i see gabriel in thirty years) we arrived fashionably late, of course. this is gabriel and benjam and i. we'd just killed dylan's keg from the night before (doeg helped) and damn i'm jumpy and had a wonderful beautiful blooming conversation. along the way to dylan's the iris Immortality by Dr. Lloyd Zurbrigg was spotted, and this happened also last year, I remember seeing the same one, and last year it made me think the apocalypse was coming, but seeing it again made me think not so much. anyhow, gavin was spinning when we got there, and everyone but everyone was there of all our long-sundered friends (the kind with whom we smoked weed in humphreys and the graveyard, way back when) but NOBODY WAS DANCING. gavin's music: too poppy. if only there were flameflowers hanging from the ceiling! but then andrew got on, and the confluence of andrew and us dancing for dancing's sake, because you see we are dance pioneers, got all the turks and everyone moving and nobody was grinding and everyone was doing the dance of plenty, even if nobody but gabriel and i were pagans: he is norse, a disciple of loki, and i am a fierce doric greek, dedicated in particular to demeter's service. trickery and fertility make the dance bloom.
what kind of pagan are you?
ps i have a political agenda now. i forget what else comprises it, but i advocate immediate use of force against the ruling regime of Zimbabwe
also the immediate use of force against the oft-violent obese