Cemetery gate crashers

They're coming to get you, SBH.

Shadows taller than our corpses.

Mellow yellow.

Sky leaves in flight, afternoon delight.

Unbagged carpet.

We all wing it.

The smart consumer's place to go sledding.
Plots half off with each cracked skull.

One dollar bill, y'all$

After all those nature shots, the blog needed some uglifying.

The Duchess tells me Vai lost his locks.
Where that leaves his fan only the roadie knows.

Thou now ravish'd goop of disguiseness,
Thou attic-child of candy -- hey, it's Time,
Gothic thespian, you can thus express
A vampiric tale more bloody than this rhyme

Farmer, tycoon, even artist? Once again, hesher is the redheaded stepchild.

If face punching doesn't work...

Stupid hippies.

Keep watching the skis!

The chamber pot that fits in your pocket!

Masks

Masaka is waking.

Lock up, clock out, scour European scores, predict who's getting nodded out of the pile of part time outfielders & corner men for a league I'm doing terrific in but care very little about, the exact opposite of black notebook stuff. Non, black codex stuff 'cause each page holds alchymick formulae -- that sputter, fizzle, & a bunch of other adjectives for frustrating incompetence.

Nyet, today (Saturday to thee & me) I'm going to clock out then kill the time twixt (un mot juste) the Slab & the Wheelie Bus that won't get back to Parmastan till past seven by sunning the carefully-placed cobwebs away, curbs tattooed with grimy perspiration as I get the gun get the gun shoot shoot shoot. I'm no TD Jakes, but I do sweat, which is why I would love Oslo whether it was full of snow & darkness & Neseblod Records or not but I'm glad that it is, not that I'll ever get there but at least it's on the shortlist which is more than most cities can brag I'm looking at you, Los Angeles.

So this new move, as small as it appears, is the first, likely temporary if I know me & I do much to my chagrin, crack in the big black monolith of routine, soon to reveal no new life signs, HAL. The air sags with moisture, concrete, & the incontrovertible fact that the self is the one person we cannot escape.

Comfort, cold or an étant occupé, isn't always gold but is the only thing that is always. Silence isn't either. Beyond this wall of sleep, speak dead speaker, beyond dead city centres, though I much prefer their funnier, kvlter old stuff, folk kveldssanger, too, smoking just like those bookend scours about wolves.



I blinde gaar jeg/Redd meg, ikke/La natten føre meg/Bestandig? Ha. I'm not fooled. As for new developments the lizard Shelley childishly perceives as brazen, I wait to hear a distracting pop song, people pinballing past, people about whose carnival I wonder, whether their frolic & shield is dis/similar to mine, yes even those feline-chapeau baroque off in the distance, forgetting that not all ears get one.

These posts, so grandiloquent in the synapse, quickly peter out like a dying Perseid you know is still there but that naked glass can no longer see, its wretched end forgotten the moment beautiful sparks evaporate in a city's overwhelming artificial light like a house in the Nevada Proving Grounds after a hundred kiloton test. (This image would work better later in the year when it's actually dark this early, I know.) The corner of the eye, having cocooned something terrible flapping in the breeze, readjusts. It turns out to only be the circle, recoiling. Stretching it to gather contact only leads to further getting burned.

Tomorrow at 4:30, ringing will reawaken reanimation.

Will you walk into my parlour

Said the spider to the fly.

 

  
CLAP LOUDER

 

 

Or, for a mere $15 a day, clap less.

 
So that's where my $15 really went.

 
 
Space Casino, here I come.

 

Kindly go fuck yourself.

 
 
Not tackling the problem.

Randal's not here, man.

It's all about karmic relationships, baby.

All is not lost.

NO FUCKING CLUE BUT I BET YOU'RE GONNA FUCKING TELL ME

So, good folks, aside from carpet prophylactics, what angers up ye blood? Minus a million points for mention of POTUS, SCOTUS, SCROTUS, WORTHLUS.

State of the union

Read into this whatever you wi -- SOMEONE CALL THE MARINES*

*fuck, fatso forgotso they're assaulting our amphibians this SHW**

**Sammy Hagar Weekend, not to be confused with FW***

***Fenriz Weekend

Whirling dervish vs. the five deadly venoms

Oh, go fly a kite.

My Snoopy Dance is dope or fly or gnarly or some other slang term.

DHS SUV GONE STOP USA UNDER ATTACK STOP

I fucking hate that fucking thing.

Water, the Saddam of the biosphere.

Early lawyer catches the hangover.

On this blog.

This isn't --

going to --

go well.

DUCHESS LOOK OUT

This might have set the height record.

This less so.

I choose to believe they weren't laughing.

I totally trespassed on your grass, The Man.

Mind meld

Now that yours antisocial has met a local blogger other than the Duchess who doesn't exactly count being a fellow inmate at the Towering Slab, interwebs greetings, scourge of dandelions, I feel all bright young thingy. Here's where Jake would say ewww, but thankfully Space Casino scoffing is more universal than I previously dreamed of. Sometimes I love you, stupid burg.

Zombie third-rate grunge lives.
Nothing personal, guys, but T-virus vaccine, stat.

Sucker bet, n. that the shine will wear off sooner rather than later.

Because I'm awful, you can't tell the signage says Filming In Progress. For flicks more thrilling than either that or this, come back for the late show wink nudge.

Okay, lead the way --

to mold --

& smokes? At least I don't feel ripped off.