It's like reruns of your favorite sitcom. Day or night, if you start feeling a little dead, a little disconnected, like you need a bigger narrative to connect with, want to cry a bit maybe, or maybe all that talk of the "junk shot" in the news has got you hot and bothered in that trashy midafternoon cable-porn kinda way, just take a gander at those black billows and feel your puny sorrows and vagrant loin-heat leach out into big Mama Gulf:
Live feed of the oil spill.
Thanks, BP, for attempting to fill a hole in our collective gut with tires, string, human hair, tennis balls, and whatever other cheap shit you can lay hands on. Because sometimes we just feel so empty inside.
....ya just know how to say things.
ReplyDeletegot yer message about the seitan. laughed out loud. called you back.
but it was over.
if you make it again, let me know. your seitan kicked ass when we made it.
you want to visit in august? let m eknow...i'll fucking fly you out here, aaron and his irish fancy will be in town sometime that month. perhaps it would be timely.
do you have an address? i feel the need to write a REAL letter now.
i am drawing again. i feel like i never drew before. it feels good. like "oh, so THIS is sex...not so bad!" a kind of refreshing feeling...
http://forum-network.org/lecture/tete-tete-simone-de-beauvoir-and-jean-paul-sartre
ReplyDelete<3,
saltron