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Everyone that reads this, go listen to Strokin by Clarence Carter.

Last night Catherine, Harry, and I slept in a collapsed tent on the roof of an abandoned warehouse.
 i love my life.


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Someone go see Bjork with me in Chicago on May 12th

'She's been through the mill. Twelve years of it, not counting her home life, twelve years of sitting in rows wishing she were somewhere else, wishing she were free, wishing it was later in the day, later in the year, later in her life when at long last her time -her life- would be her own. Moment after moment she wishes this. She wishes it ( Read more... )

Live from the stage, we're all here.

everything must go.

last night me and mary were walking around and a stray cat followed us home. we took care of her and named her Phoebe, aka nipple palooza, because of her swollen nipples. i love her.

right now i am alone, and i feel better about myself than i have felt in months.

"Behold, earthshaking inventions which are usless or obsolete in the same century. The steamboat, the railroads, yet do you know what these meant after 6 thousand years of gallery slaves and men on horseback? And now the dance hall girl buys a chemical to kill the seed of her lovers, and lives to be 75 in a room full of gadgets which cool the air ( Read more... )