the infintesimal melt down
because we all know it's never the big things, also I am mining my future, as I have refused my own self a loan on credence, because I have a habit of running with scissors -- splayed -- pointy ends honed to daggers. I find it amusing, everyone else just cowers, well fine then.
Frere Emma has suggested I veer from the apocalyptic, so I have decided to swing towards the apopleptic....It wasn't my fault anyway, blame it on Cormac McCarthy - I knew I should have never read the road -- I haven't been the same since. Gavin Newsom you are a gigantic nincompoop, related I would happily have a politician roast on my foreman grill in the light well, because oh am I motherfucking sick of focus group speak and we are a year and a half away from the election.
Seconds and hours of newspeak and ridiculous clips of also-rans in hair helmets forcefully gesticulating with closed fists. I am sorry Hillary, I used to like you when you had a pair, but if I have to listen to a year of vacuous speechifying, I might have to go to one of those states like Ohio and kick you squarely in the ass. Enough is enough already - enough with the Bushes and enough with the Clintons. Dynasty was soooo reagan era, and since wispy boys with wispy beards have clogged all the good bars, boys in need of tacos and beans, did I miss the memo when we all forgot about foie gras, what the hell is happening anyway, there is a broad line between sensitive and preciously fey.
Do I need another city, do I need another local, is this endemic? Where pray is the last stand up man, please tell me, I have an itch in need of scratching, I have miles and I am ready to fly. Have I become hopelessly dated? Will I ever have another date? Do smart girls get laid in this mediawonderland, or do we sit on the sidelines and scoff like the bunch of Anarchist Cheerleaders In That Nirvana Video We Wish We Were and Sort of Almost Were that was so very long ago, really now that I think of it, was so long ago.
I can hardly remember in my dotage, but it might be the wine. I am not exactly sure that I give a fuck in the bright light of the empty bottle of liquor store quality cote du rhone -- chances are my mind will be changed in the haze of sobriety and... and all that work to be done... well you know, whatever, nevemind.
because we all know it's never the big things, also I am mining my future, as I have refused my own self a loan on credence, because I have a habit of running with scissors -- splayed -- pointy ends honed to daggers. I find it amusing, everyone else just cowers, well fine then.
Frere Emma has suggested I veer from the apocalyptic, so I have decided to swing towards the apopleptic....It wasn't my fault anyway, blame it on Cormac McCarthy - I knew I should have never read the road -- I haven't been the same since. Gavin Newsom you are a gigantic nincompoop, related I would happily have a politician roast on my foreman grill in the light well, because oh am I motherfucking sick of focus group speak and we are a year and a half away from the election.
Seconds and hours of newspeak and ridiculous clips of also-rans in hair helmets forcefully gesticulating with closed fists. I am sorry Hillary, I used to like you when you had a pair, but if I have to listen to a year of vacuous speechifying, I might have to go to one of those states like Ohio and kick you squarely in the ass. Enough is enough already - enough with the Bushes and enough with the Clintons. Dynasty was soooo reagan era, and since wispy boys with wispy beards have clogged all the good bars, boys in need of tacos and beans, did I miss the memo when we all forgot about foie gras, what the hell is happening anyway, there is a broad line between sensitive and preciously fey.
Do I need another city, do I need another local, is this endemic? Where pray is the last stand up man, please tell me, I have an itch in need of scratching, I have miles and I am ready to fly. Have I become hopelessly dated? Will I ever have another date? Do smart girls get laid in this mediawonderland, or do we sit on the sidelines and scoff like the bunch of Anarchist Cheerleaders In That Nirvana Video We Wish We Were and Sort of Almost Were that was so very long ago, really now that I think of it, was so long ago.
I can hardly remember in my dotage, but it might be the wine. I am not exactly sure that I give a fuck in the bright light of the empty bottle of liquor store quality cote du rhone -- chances are my mind will be changed in the haze of sobriety and... and all that work to be done... well you know, whatever, nevemind.
posted by emma at
11:37 PM
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