I’d enjoy PR work for anti-depressants. There can’t be much event planning involved.

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I’d click on negative spam. If instead of, “very superior site!” some viagra peddler wrote, “this site puts me to sleep,” I’d click the link…purely out of respect for a new approach.
 I need a new life.

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Today at the mall, find the lady with the most coupons. Tickle her ’till the coupons cascade to the floor. Don’t offer to pick them up.

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This morning, find the old man at the football game with hard cider in his plastic cup. Kiss him for me.

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Brecht either wrote horrible poems or had horrible translators.
Or both.
Boy got fat off Mother Courage royalties.

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the new ssy, ‘Come, Hell or Highwater’ is done- it just needs a volume levelling mix and a non-liberary internet connection to bring it to you, the listener (which is probably just Gentle or Nap)- how do you like that- i spend years on this shit and i can’t even hear it when i’m online?
eleven days- […]

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Smoke rose from the urinal this morning. Winter has arrived.

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Who remembers “Where There ain’t no Ten Commandments,” the Kipling poem? Kipling would MC in 2009. In fact, his spawn’s spawn may have spawned The Streets.
“Original Pirate Material,” that would surely come from an imperialist.

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No politics, only pain.
Run on that. You’ll win a municipal election, where there ain’t no cameras.

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You start asking yourself what you’d like to give to the world. You start sending poems down the river, like Rumi.
You start shaking.

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part of this quest for identity involves hangovers- tied one on last eve- i always break out the whisky when i’m fucked in the heart and head.
the vocals are done for the album- here’s the song list in case i die before the final mix is done and Nap or Gentle want to finish the fucker […]

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First frigid sunlight today. Felt great. All I needed, in fact.

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Statement Against Scrapping “Florence” From Your Setlist: Oracbeat, one love for real, you can’t do this to people. Florence makes everyone forget their troubles during a faltering economy. “Florence” transports us to Florence Proper. I miss “Florence,” and that’s why I miss live sets; that and my Weeknight Moratorium On Leaving The House.
Help me. Bring […]

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Anybody know anybody who can make doggy shapes–and balloon shapes–with their breath in the wintertime? Men of Letters overplays the miscellany.
And kills the spam.  

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The south gave you pro wrestling, the north gave you donuts, and men of letters…men of letters will give you love. I even the love the spammers (and hate the spam).
83 ass-wipes raided our comment box today. Some of them may have families. My God.

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