ugh

hey, first of all, check out the link section for the good court, evil court line-up. i woulda put those images in my profile, but they have a 50kb limit, and as much as I messed with the size/resolution of those images, I couldn't get under 50k without ruining them, so F that I said. anyway, I need a job and a slice of strawberry rhubarb pie. we sail tonight for singapore (don't fall asleep while you're ashore), cross your heart and hope to die, when you hear the children cry, let marrow, bone and cleaver choose, while making feet for children's shoes, through the alley, back from hell, when you hear that steeple bell, you must say goodbye to me. AHAHAhAhhaAAaAHHaHAAhHa


steam, steam, and other bad dreams, goin up to Harlem with a pistol in his jeans, a 50 dollar pill inside a paladin's hat, and nobodies sure where Mr. Knickerbocker's at.

just let me fall out of the window with confetti in my hair, deal out jacks or better on a blanket by the stairs, I tell you all my secrets, but I lie about my past, so send me off to bed for evermore...

been listening to too much Tom Waits today, 16 men on a dead man's chest, and I been drinkin from a broken cup, two pairs of pants and a mauve vest, I'm full of bourbon and I can't stand up. Schiffer broke a bottle on morgan’s head, and I been steppin on the devil’s tail, across the stripes of a full moon’s head, and through the bars of a cuban jail, bloody fingers on a purple knife, flamingo drinking from a cocktail glass, I’m on the lawn with someone else’s wife, admire the view from up on top of the mast

yar... makes me feel like putting on the old rags and dragging myself out horrorshow across the ocean. Y'AR, I woulda made a fine pirate.

in all seriousness though, my turn: I finally figured out what everything is worth, and it's a fucking arm and a leg ya know? yeeeeah, I got my fingers sticking out the ends of arms waving through wind at the top of pine trees through glass windows looking in on stacks of books, letting my neck go limp so I can lift my head with my hands and let the heft hang like a heifer carcass off hooks, making my skin slither across the neighbor's lawn and hair bubble up like broccoli on fast-forward, it's not too late to let words traffic jam my teeth crammed like sleep in train seats riding the great deisel needle that stitches up gaps across the face of family, towns and local peagantries of goodbye, hello sounds.

so that's whats new with me.