and they're bringing...gifts?

last time this happened i stayed. EVERYONE else in the city left. except for one bar. and beer makes everything better!

today i got tired of hearing all those blades of grass mouthing off.

so.

I CUT THEM DOWN TO SIZE.

ahem.

then i trimmed the edge of the lawn. and admired the straight line i made. yes, b, you're suburban.

'cept for that fourtyounce in backseat.

and the desk at work.

when i leave a note on your car, politely asking you NOT to park by the gate in the driveway, so that me and the family can reach *our* apartment, THEN DON'T FUCKING PARK BY THE GATE IN THE DRIVEAWAY.

i mean really. i asked politely. don't make be dump the hedge clippings on YOUR side of the yard.

i wanna get free, i wanna get free...

andy plays the oboe. he's played in symphonys. right now he's doing graphic design with moi.


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gift from L.:


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my vacation was wrecked by publishing company in Ft. lauderdale and the odd placement of labor day this year ( Read more... )

the wife says this journal is uneven, why don't i make another. it feels schizo. it runs all over the place, 'cause the train of thought runs all over the place. wife, this is not new for me ( Read more... )

"I'm okay, you're okay

i like what i've done with my journal. something about the purple makes it pop. or beat, a heart murmur of broken love, now fixed.