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LIURRRRS!!!

I knew I paid my car insurance up until November! YOUR MISTAKE PROGRESSIVE. Of course I paid my bill using three different cards so there was some confusion on their part and they didn't give me the 6 month discount. Luckily I caught that. So now I can legally dabble in sex while driving without fear of reprecussions from the fuzz! Ah ah ah.

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Buffalo Bill's & Blue Moon Punkie Ale now on tap at Hotel The Bob. 6 for 10 or 1 for 3 dolluh. I shall be using the brain pan of Satan for a beer coaster.
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Primitivism.

I fell asleep last night into my pile of papers with pencil in hand writing about the dual nature of man in terms of knowing and unknowing. Faith, blind faith, his ghosts and dopplegangers, God and his ilk, the all. Multiple things I have no reliable knowledge of. Anyhow...I awoke several times unable to lift my head but mustering enough will power to push the books and papers off to one side. At 5:30 I awoke again, finally, to lights and the stinging of sleep and tiredness in my face. My monkey face pushing forth unseemly visions. No point here really except that I'm not quite ready to be up yet. Goodnight, foundlings.
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(no subject)

Punkie ale & peanut butter cookies & I'm staying up all night. Unresponsible that I am. It's just as well if I don't awake in the morning. Just so long as I wake in the middle of whatever takes me & I feel it to the end. Who wants to die peacefully in their sleep? I want it to come amidst flames and blind stabbing.

Seeing as levitating above the bathtub didn't help much I think I'll force myself to sit here until dawn. I wrote a terribly pessimistic letter accompanied by pen art but I think I will sit on that too. I suppose I should find somebody to speak at but I've said my sayings for the night & what to whom?

My car should be ready by Tuesday & I'm tempted to drive away after being grounded so long. Maybe sleep behind some gas station like I did once in Colorado half out of my brains. Hotel living is nice but sleeping alongside the road restlessly is travelling. It should be forced into each animal that he sleep a week of days in a tent in Big Sur in earshot of the emptying river. In fact if I could somehow wrestle power away at any level I would immediately suspend most civil services & demand such a thing under duress of capital punishment. That's right...go to Big Sur & sleep under the redwoods or die. Imagine the migration problems & manslaughter that would unfold. Forget it swashbucklers...back to your lives.

I even thought about finding some new journals to read & adding new yes-men to my plate but it seems pointless. I'm so solipsistic & condescending at times that I even ignore myself. Which is nice because I forget about 90% of anything I ever say to somebody. It's not that I'm trying to be malicious or anything, I'm just simply unamused most of the time. Which means that I have no facial expressions except for a few gasping laughs from over-tiredness. Maybe I'll just type until dawn & this will be the longest post ever. It's main worth will be that it says absolutely nothing. Forget it chippy.

An allegory of sorts is prolly needed here but I think a whimsical pic shall be a better finish:


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I'm a liar. I only made it until 2:30. It was dawn somewhere though across Europe or the Atlantic O.
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Drizzle

So I listen to this wine-talk show sometimes on Sunday nights while I walk. It is hosted by Tom Lykis of all people. I don't particularly care about wine although I used to drink some cheap stuff on an infrquent basis. The point here is is that there were these guests who matched foods with wines. And so I learned that Pinot Noir is the perfect accoutrement with duck, pardon, the ultimate climax to duck so and so. It doesn't accompany it it finishes it off! And I'm thinking what kind of effete sentimentality is this? Anytime I drank wine I matched it with Doritos or pretzels or chips of some sort and a tall glass of water. Always cold cold and never with dinner. I don't understand your ways homo sapien and least of all your wines and women. Although this has nothing to do with women.
  • Current Music
    Robert Schumann - Kinderszenen
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& MOREEEEEEEE D-MAN

Clara Clairvoyant

Clara Clairvoyant
Consultation 10 to 4
In the shadows
Leave skepticism at the door
Oh oh oh rap tap tap table tap
Have you anyone to talk to
Not quite living on the other side, contact

Clara Clairvoyant
Her consultation is 10 to 4
Kathy Kathoolica
In the box from 3 to 4
In the shadow
Leave genitals at the door
Ooooooh but but tut tut
Have you any perversion to confess
To the lumpy cassock on the other side

Kathy Katholica
In the box from 3 to 4
Rocky Rock'n'Roller
Sometimes up and sometimes down
In the long run
Take the path down off the ground
Between lost belief and gross fear
Have you any idea how much you have?
Not quite nothing and not quite all!

Psychedelic Yogi
Is not a very groovy groovy guru
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More Donovan lyrics(maybe my favorite)

West Indian Lady

Can I be of assistance, my love? Sha la la la la la la la la
I will help you out into the room Sha la la la la la la la la
And you know what I'm thinking that very soon we will be a-drinking
From the cup of joy you have brought
From the cup of joy the lady brought
I see you brought your bow along also Sha la la la la la la la la
Is the arrow for me, love?
Very soon I think I'll know
If I never return from in her eyes Sha la la la la la la la la
Even in the dark they hypnotise Sha la la la la la la la la
West Indian lady in the picture on my wall,
But I love her printer's name and all
But he love her printer'sname and all
But I love her drawing pins and all.
But he love her drawing pins and all
But he love her printer's name and all Sha la la la la la la la la
But he love her printer's name and all Sha la la la la la la la la
She's the belle of Kilburn, yeah, yeah, yeah
She's the belle of Kilburn, yeah, yeah, yeah
She's the belle of Kilburn, yeah, yeah, yeah
She's the belle of Kilburn, yeah, yeah, yeah
She's the belle of Kilburn
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Donovan

I watched this program: John Lennon's Jukebox on PBS late last night. A few of the records included were by Otis Redding and Donovan. Donovan talked about his song Turquoise and Lennon of course and other stuffs. I've always loved Donovan. His sissy music fits onto my sissy soul like a button. I saw him play solo and acoustically (outdoors even, in a park) once in Detroit and it was by far the best concert I ever witnessed. I prefer his hippy psychedelia over the folksy stuff, but Turquoise has pretty lyrics and it makes me all sappy and is a favorite. Download it if you have a soul.

TURQUOISE

Your smile beams like sunlight on a gull's wing
And the leaves dance and play after you
Take my hand and hold it as you would a flower
Take care with my heart, oh darling, she's made of glass

Your eyes feel like silence resting on me
And the birds cease to sing when you rise
Ride easy your fairy stallion you have mounted
Take care how you fly, my precious, you might fall down

In the pastel skies a sunset I have wondered
With my eyes and ears and heart stained to the full
I know I tasted the essence in the few days
Take care who you love, my precious, he might not know
  • Current Music
    Turquoise - Donovan
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Whim poesy numero uno

ASSASSINS

I am not all evil. Not yet anyhow.
Not as we have come to know it.
I save spiders from certain death
In the shower. Put a razor ramp down
And they cling onto the buoy
With their bodies. I lift up,
Raise the spikes of the remaining legs
Like stiffening glue and place them on dry
Land behind the soap bottle.

Or likewise from the sink.
The sticky legs cannot mount the basin
And tumble towards the toothpaste ring
Near the drain. I brush them,
My yellowing teeth, in hopeless gestures
And spit. I will lose most and no longer
Be able to enjoy eating the meat
You so despise, give names to.
Fur and eyes. These spiders and me.

I do not witness their unspeakable
Deeds either. The entombing of insects
In the moist web like a sarcophagus.
The sexual dance of capture
And untamable ecstasy of the kill
And final surrender. We do not see this
In our busy lives and maybe we ought to.
So that we may see our own natures
Up close with revolting pleasure.

But I am just prolonging the inevitable.
Only to see their twisted legs crumpled
Like breached stems on leafless flowers,
In the tile grout or the encasment
Of the sliding glass doors. Forgive them Lord.
They never saw to look. I have too much time
To be insignificant and invisible as they are.
Not brothers, but sharing similar fates
In nature as essential non-absolutes.