- << so nothing new years-y special. it was good, though, 'cause i really had
tone it. i needed to be with people who obviously cared about me muchly
instead of mingling with people i like but would never call on the phone
(yknow the type). >>
i never call anyone on the phone, (this is bad) but here is my new phone
number if anyone wants to call me. all calls will be limited to 30 minutes,
due to the sharing of the phone line between 3 people. one of them an
internet junkie. i would much rather you just fly down here and hang out,
though. i Hate the telephone. the waves give me bad dreams. electrocution.
and the land is
100 e. citrus street
altamonte springs, fl
no one has become a grown up while i was away, right? i'll get off this
motherfucker. i swear.
i feel a haiku coming on.
- you don't mind if I write through Sue's account? I'm having trouble getting
online these days.
nope, no grownups that I know of, though Cheralyn's in some danger when she
moves to Palmdale.
I think Lance singlehandedly kept this list alive when we all got struck off.
I'll either be dead or better soon, & hopefully splendid stories will come
from everyone when the holiday stink blows clear.
Haiku address is email@example.com, I'm pretty sure. I'll need to launch
some other software to find out. but I will. wait, no...
okay, we'll see in a sec (I guess you already know) if that works.
I volunteered last night to write for a magazine called the Anorexic Press.
This girl is, uh... she's friendly. & very needy. She comes over sometimes.
She brings me weed. It was the least I could do. She says we (brothers)
are part of her destiny & she just knows that because otherwise we wouldn't
all be here together. Or something. You should have seen how excited she
got when I said, "can I write for your magazine?" It was the only decent
thing to say after how much shameless promotion she poured about it, writing
poems on my refrigerator with those magnet words & then writing them down in
a purple velvet-bound notebook "for the magazine." I don't know how many
times she said the name of it, but it felt like she wanted me to ask about it
so she could talk about it. Am I being pretentious? I found out yesterday I
didn't really know what that word meant. I thought it was a form of
pretense, which suggests deceit. There's nothing dishonest in... nevermind.
just something that's been loading my mind for decades.
okay, this aol is creeping me out. I've gotta run. I applied for a job
today. I really don't want it.
- grownups are strange.
they are not fond of shoes without socks, much less sandals without socks.
apparently matt lauer is the number one authority on footwear.
congratulations, lance. you are a lifeline to broccoli.
i hate retail. i think i should volunteer to write for the magazine my
supposed soul mate runs. oh wait.
jobs suck. but you get to spend a lot of time with very interesting people.
but gwen stefani sucks just in general. there is nothing good about her.
champagne is incredibly good. it's like i'm discovering this for the first
time or something.
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