"....and that fuckin' Lords Of Acid CD is about to be an obstruction in your colon, my dear." - Ovariancyst

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Words won't come out to play ( Read more... )

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Kevyn Aucoin is dead?

I count the ways
you fall away
it all goes well
don't lose today

don't lose your mind
you're losing time
the sandman calls
he calls for you

don't hate yourself
your words will shine
for my idle time
i count the ways
your song still plays
it hurts to see
you're losing me
the sandman calls
he calls for you

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Reading some journals really does feel like dipping one's head in a public bathroom urinal repeatedly.
Self-deprecation seems to have become the new opiate for the masses. In fact, its Bigger Than Jesus!

It isn't easy to keep from turning one's journal into something that resembles a collection of moans and groans that sound as though they came from beyond a grave. Life has a tendency to be anything but pleasant or charming, and we respond accordingly, accusing some unseen force, oneself or just about everybody else of underperforming ( Read more... )

The door is open, and assorted members of our cast hurry on their way, throwing glances at me as they pass by. Office dynamics. Supervisors discuss matters amongst themselves, assign tasks to their underlings and laugh out loud to various jokes being thrown around. Suddenly, through the sounds of the office, the machinery hum, the rustle of ( Read more... )