oh self, why are you
so fantastically awesome
at this thing you do?

so i might admit
i am a suburbanite--
with a gangster bike

There's a time and space we sometimes like to fill our heads with that can't quite be reached through reality. It is imperative to enjoy and respect that dimension, because it can be very powerful for the individual will.

Unfortunately, this like all types of fantasy can act as a drug, debilitating any hope of control over our own mortality.

The scenario is I just got my fucking tickets for A Tribe Called Quest in Atlanta on September 23. Yeah, that's right, ATCQ is back the fuck together. Fuck yeah.

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is too offensive a title for my symposium presentation on "the politicization and socialization of human need". I guess I saw that coming. Then again, it was actually the toned down version of my first choice title: "The Politics of Shit."

any suggestions?

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