(no subject)
I really can't remember the unicode for a u with an umlaut over it (alt-0228 for ä, alt-0246 for ö, and alt-0239 for ï), but I haven't listened to Hüsker Dü (copy-paste) in a while so such things are non-necessities.
I went on a camping trip of sorts. There is an area called Sherwood Forest near Willipa Bay, WA. It is a commune of sorts full of dirty hippies that smoke American Spirit and tend to horses and play covers of Cat Stevens songs. Me and some others canoed to a nearby island that was full of mosquitoes and a very old cedars (had not been subject to clearcutting for 4000 years, I believe).
That was quite a while ago, though. Now I bounce between Olympia and Seattle and find myself subject to various mood swings. Soon I will go on a trip with Nicholas involving a truck and thousands of miles of roadways that jaunt across the plains and mountains and whores (they typically congregate near high traffic areas, as you must place your product in prime view of potential customers). For now I drink to stave off the melancholy. With as many symbiotic relationships that exist in this world between animals and illicit substances, I believe that the sacred bond between a man and his 6-pack of Milwaukee's Best is one to be preserved.
Not sure where this is all headed or if a culmination is something to expect but living isn't the most terrible thing I've ever experienced.
If there is anything to expect, it is me on your fucking doorstep, vomit caking my face and a wish for a dollar upon my lips.
I went on a camping trip of sorts. There is an area called Sherwood Forest near Willipa Bay, WA. It is a commune of sorts full of dirty hippies that smoke American Spirit and tend to horses and play covers of Cat Stevens songs. Me and some others canoed to a nearby island that was full of mosquitoes and a very old cedars (had not been subject to clearcutting for 4000 years, I believe).
That was quite a while ago, though. Now I bounce between Olympia and Seattle and find myself subject to various mood swings. Soon I will go on a trip with Nicholas involving a truck and thousands of miles of roadways that jaunt across the plains and mountains and whores (they typically congregate near high traffic areas, as you must place your product in prime view of potential customers). For now I drink to stave off the melancholy. With as many symbiotic relationships that exist in this world between animals and illicit substances, I believe that the sacred bond between a man and his 6-pack of Milwaukee's Best is one to be preserved.
Not sure where this is all headed or if a culmination is something to expect but living isn't the most terrible thing I've ever experienced.
If there is anything to expect, it is me on your fucking doorstep, vomit caking my face and a wish for a dollar upon my lips.