yesterday at work i placed a french-style whisk down my pants and returned it to the drawer like nothing happened and the day before that i wrote a song about komissar's. today i am writing a report on william jefferson blyth III for 544.85 rubles [twenty-20-bucks]. i found i CAN be twenty-one and rent a uhaul...so pustynya here we come. my car ( Read more... )

i wish i knew of a way to put this in a flashy big font for all to gawk at in wanderlust, but no. all i have to say is: pressure.

ahem...In the United Hates of Ascarica ( Read more... )

weird androgony followed by stabs of curiosity? what? read that in a book once. russia would be cooler if it bred wooly mammothEYE in designer purple.

kids...sektor gaza...haha chastushki!!!

lost this post...here's the jist ( Read more... )

lots of shit.tell later

new songs.new sound.new gear.old phobias.

Itak

apppppppppeeeeeeeeeeeeasement? criminy.
Ao3

Since my last journal....[huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuf] Deep breath!read some books. wrote some songs. broke a back and a bank. ate some citrus. gained a friend. gained some decibels. lost control. learned some tricks. impressed noone. lost a job for future endeavors. had a cow. ate a cow. broke the seal. ya ustal. days demolished for nites of ( Read more... )

... Weeko Bustamante Baggins Style... I am deathly afraid of POOP.