so my birthday past and i still want more stuff.

things that i really want right now
a new receiver.
a new turntable.
these two things will make my audio system complete.
the money to take my computer in.
the money to take my jaguar in.
these two things would help me record music.
a bunch of new art. i want a picture of pushkin. a picture new order. bosnian concentration camp. garden of earthly delights. more stuff.
a biafra pound.
i'd also like a dog but that's not even possible so i'll skip it.
i really need to win the lottery, bring home the bacon right!

i got my xm radio working good now, i just have to run it thru the tapedeck line, which is stupid. my phono line is so fucked. and now my cd line is not working. so cd player is running thru the other tape line. whatever. it sounds sweet. hopefully i can talk about birthday and such later on but right now i haven't got the timetime. dun dun. i'm going to write a song about being a prisoner.

black and white rabbits/alf/family

whoa. totally exhausted. slept way too little last night, which means like 5 hours and i'm still hungover. it's all worth it though, just to know that some people don't hate you. it all works out. anyways, tired. not enough time to do all the things i'd like to do. although it is sorta coming together. and within a weeks time i'll have XM radio. and i'll be ambiguously gay.

do you remember some movie about a family getting a giant rabbit? it's in black and white. i just remember being built up about it. in some major way. this is when i was about 9 or something. maybe younger. and i finally watched it with my parents, my father thought it was essential. and i don't even remember the point of the film, i just remember you don't really ever see the rabbit. i was highly disappointed. which is the point of this. and my disappointment was my father's disappointment. i remember that feeling of sadness. and wanting to take it all back by the laundry room. moments like that, they stick with you forever. when you feel like you failed when you shouldn't have. take it back. it's all simple. and whatever. and not a big deal. but i guess for me things like that are the backbone of it all. also thinkin'bout mom singin' about boats rowing and little lights. why are children so good at always seeing a new day so simply. also, if i wanted to be really into this (i'm really half-assing) i'd make some sort of connection between my job of framing and perception. i won't though. and i'm not in a silly mood. i am hungover. and back to the nine.

also, i'm so glad that i own marquee moon again. and XM radio, WOO in the target SNL lady vain. i really need to get on top of the whole sowing idea. srsly. and just more creating. at least i can say my room has a personality that isn't a mess. for once. WOO. more later. i'm sorta disappointed that i didn't put more effort into this buttttttttt i had been lettin' the horse get away from me.

the alf thing is just the similarity to that movie. family with secrets. it really should all be better. don't say that you love me, just tell me that you want me. TUSK! duhdurrr.
philanthropy possibly??? monkeys to save, everyone needs an uncle. i really wish i could hear pick a bail of cotton rights 'bout now.

love is a banquet from which we leave

i want to watch the empire skin a man alive. i don't know. we put each other through infinite amounts of agony. don't understand what i'm feeling. i want to meet hieronymus bosch. it's sorta weird how he's so anonymous. i have nothing. two empty glasses. hung images. going to the library to gather pictures of yugoslavian concentration camps. it seems pretty to be in the dark cutting flowers with scissors that are still connected to being 8, the carousel, and spilling wine because the damn earth ain't an even surface. then in a room, you're only space, constantly listening to two songs with two empty glasses and only one coughin nail left. it's all typical. the mallard. a family of dead wrestlers. and somehow the fire can never get big enough, the flames never get high enough. it hurts so bad, like the supremes, especially that girl who got eclipsed by diana and could only reconcile with all the drinks. a ha ha ha. take me to russia. and a mixtape and a walkman (could you only imagine a girl on a train with a walkman and THOSE eyes). this is so fractured that lawrence taylor would say i couldn't do better. just remember that jesus got tempted by that last lil' trick. saving humanity? HAH! that sly devil, it's the easiest method to tell a man his actions are selfless. he'll follow you to the grave! "this is the way, step inside!" i'd rather, rather sadly mind you, believe morrissey, because you just haven't earned it yet, baby! atleast i am. and atleast i'm gun' go see lil' wayne. and i saw a fite in a strip club. and a candle in the face of a drunk airforce man. i can't make these things up, the opportunities are infinite. to bed with jerry springer on the mind.
always pro-tomorrow,
galvin (in spray paint)

it's like eating a mermaid!

it's always ten miles a minute so just hold your hoses, girls. i ain't got much to say. the g'vner from that big ol' socialist state with the secessionist husband is rumored to have been a success but i call bad eggs. just bad eggs. me and my diet v8 splashed with vodka are not so much into the notion. it was watching tyson vs. what's his name with the pretty smile. also, she's gonna have skin cancer. but seriously the avoidance. what is this? why is it being bought? how dull the center is. i know more than people can imagine that i am OUT there but i still feel connected. it just feels so false. i wanna drink with joe biden, i like that dude a lot. i like me a politician who can tell a good story and i'd bet my two last silver dollars that that man can do it. give him so light. it's so stupid. she's DULL. DULL DULL DULL. she's the people that ruin things. that make the world so very, very sluggish. i want to drink gallons of alcohol and find the vaudeville. remember when people said, "give me liberty or give me death," instead of saying, "freedom isn't free." witchdoctors and libraries. she inherited a diamond and said she made it. i s'pose. i hate it all. i just want to drink. and read a million books. and laugh forever. this human condition. so i follow it all with drink. and madmen. which is sooooooooo good. characters are constantly looking like people i know. which makes me feel regret for my stupidity. i will soon learn to sow. and that can mean a variety of things. and i just keep wondering if the bananas are ripe. and why are the apples all granny. and why am i so bored. there isn't enough action. i should've written about things past but it's too late now. i skipped out on radio call-ins. and all the things i should be asking people about. how do police helicopters work? ugh. i can't stop eating fruit. and biscotti. and i just chase love. it's something worth talking about way more. but the gun is jammed. don't take it sexually or nothing. so i drink my classless drink and sulk. i need a makeover. how does one get a haircut? i don't even know. (this is where the good line goes). i'm missing opportunities. atleast i can see a newborn. it's a beautiful thing. and i should clean my room. the burps keep coming. and you know very well that i'm well read. and scattered. i read about thuggies last night. and the first indonesian war. and found a relation between tulsa and apartheid. lastly i want a light up shirt but i ain't really lookin. i just want to find the right fit. put it on a memorial and forget about it. that's what she said or that's what they told me.
the royal dumbass
just looking for an elephant graveyard in the disorder.
congratulations.

casinos and sexshows

so this weekend is going to be epic-i know, i know, i am a living epic-and it's so exciting. to set it off right i bought prince's "1999", which is totally unnecessary until you think about how prince is the best way to get in the mood to live like time's about to run out in 20-ZERO-ZERO. it's just the state of mind and i got paid and then some, which could mean that i sell sex on the side, but it could also mean i spend time in airports drinking 4 dollar domestics watching the blue-teethes and blackberries get fresh. back on track, the weekend has begun because i bought a party album. then it continues because i'm seeing ratatat tomorrow which isn't something that gets me SUPERSTOKED CPS (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Super_Soaker) (i'll get better at making this pretty, i promise) but i've heard good things and i always like getting the yayas out. plus, i'll probably drink a lot of pomegranate vodka and XXX vitamin water. or something. pretty lights. also, i'm playing tennis. so posh. but it's really sort of depressing where i play. like a set from little children. the leaves and the clouds and mothers and me thinking about to be or not to be. then i need to make a tshirt that flashes. whatever. thursday i get to be alone. or no mother home. book clubs where she's reading books that i KNOW she doesn't like but i would (the new paul auster if you want to get all personal about it). friday starts with me going to work then leaving work for work related reasons. I MIGHT GET PIZZA OR DONUTS. i think these are the two most uplifting foods for me. i mean, there are always smiles. ate out of a trash bag of donuts last week, for the 2nd time in my life, which you should be jealous of. anyways then i get to piss off the rest of my friday. also, my psycho coworker got fired. which is good but i'm worried about her getting edmond/sherrill on me (see: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Patrick_Sherrill). they'd surely say i got cornered by pam, that's a frame reference you dolt. or maybe it'd just change the meaning of getting framed. ANYWAYS...i'm gonna go see lil' wayne which is the biggest news but i'm sick of this. and it loses steam because i'm a ramblin' train. but it's going to be off the hook. i can't wait to see a real event in the BOK center. tulsa is making me beyond proud, i put my face twixt her legs just at the right (uncross left) time. then maybe leon russel on saturday at quiktripfest (see: hanson). more reasons to prop tulsa. well i'm stoked. it's time to blast off. i need tires. and i'm tired. and i wanna get drunk with peeps but most likely not.
::sigh::
gall-vine

n.p. the lesser, second television album, "adventure." i want that zipup though. and a poster of it's cover.
btw i want to go to casinos and sexshows which is surely why you read this whole thing. whoevs you is.

"what in god's name is a mollusk?"

power, glory, control, and freedom. those are my thoughts right now. and then obtuse things like, "the degenerate sat and drank cheaply vodka, his thoughts directly on balding but more abstractly the depression." it's all so whatevs. .33333333 the way through if...and truly enjoying it. i had to escape to cigarettes and the forceful need to BLUGH. i dunno, i fig're it has to be forced at this point. so misdirected but it's something, right? i wish i could say i felt deformed but that would not be true. it's just it. that movie just has me thinking about all the times boring myself in silence, listening to stories of nationalism. and then i just jump to white people's racism. not like in europe but here in this orphan nation. i mean, look at what the european identity is. black america saved so many white people from the restrictive nature of cultural habits. this is so not thought out. or probably even remotely true but it's so uptight. and dull. and depressed. a people are evil. it all revolves around "iffffff......." and wine. some of this should be quoted because it's not me speaking but others but i don't care if i confuse you and i really doubt that you care either. shrouds.

i went to a free showing on suffragettes which should be stated in an OBVIOUS david bowie reff but you think that's cheap and i don't care. i fell asleep but i was tired and not just bored. but bull durham's lover doesn't exactly have the most engaging of voices especially in the mid-90s. women applauded constantly. to be taken for granted. i continue to find men difficult to engage. or more appropriately unnecessary to do so. most often guarded and pretentious. upholding standards. and i probably do it too. but i can't help but find it boring and therefore find them too difficult to talk to too often. this is NOT me.


it's all just a hidden cigarette that is such a self-lie because of obvious reasons or i'm no carmen sandiago. and i can't stop listening to new order. or drinking. but the alone time has been nice and the reading is good. the blind monkey is sleeping in the ashes, silly goose.

with apologies,
g.od d.amn ward

my first criticisms!

"this is hard to read"
"the colors are awful on my screen"

the other day someone thought i was a pimp which might just mean that they think my friends and me are meth heads who will do anything for money. i ponder. but seriously do you need any help? just get in my truck, i've got some hemp rope and we can play tie up for fun or for forty dollars. it's a play on irl situations and words at the same time. i digress. remember that i hate the word resplended. OH! last night over hard news i had stereotypes shattered over magic: the gathering players! blacks with cool hoodies do this too! AT WHATABURGER. the world never ceases to amaze.

whine4winos/2real4words

i need to learn how to use this. first posts are always the worst, in a very different way then how the last drink is always the worst. that can also mean a lot of different things but primarily i mean that it means the night is over, not the whole vomcity on the blue bonnets . you wouldn't have guessed but my musical choice is u2's "the joshua tree." he's embarrassed and feels like he's being usurped by his past. the shame of it but in honestly it's a good album. and the wine fits. hohum. without much umpf it begins. but sometimes men take big steps with short dorks. lil' wayne and beyond. it's all i can think. the confussion of blues harmonica on a u2 album.
love,
faggav.

p.s. i'm afraid my neck is about to snap and there isn't even a large russian behind me!