Monday, April 26, 2010

bean bagz for fagz

solitude is overrated, especially when you can share your bean bag chair with your friends.

Saturday, March 13, 2010

Touch my ballz.

Welcome to the chamber pot filled to the brim with your bullshit. I don't know why anyone in their right mind would take anything you say or do seriously. Get the hell out of my face before I use this new can of mace. PLAYCO PARTY!

Monday, November 16, 2009


Silly fucking lunatic with your beaded skirts and shit. Keep up the good act while everyone is so drunk they can't even tell whether or not you're bullshitting with them. I know your game, and it's spent. Bored. Washed-up. Get this thing the fuck out of here before I try my hardest to be a violent person. I'm not. (Artwork 'Grey Square' by Julie Alexander)

Monday, November 2, 2009

CeCe Peniston mix tape.

She is so magical when she touches me with her greasy LA Looks-covered hands. She lights up the sky in the middle of Yuma, east, somewhere at the bottom of the foothills where scorpions dance to her sweet melodies. She is so practical about the way in which her speakers are bumping... and to think I could have taken her home. Eerily reminiscent of the time we both crossed paths in a desolate, abandoned strip mall. Marginalised by our love for one another, she reassured me of her entourage. We felt the plight of its utter abandon, without ever having heard its last breath. "Finally it has happened to me!" I thought aloud, trying my best to find some common ground on which to stand. It's hard out here, but it is worth it and the cold keeps coming but I know it's going to get warmer sooner than later.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

2nite at the Soda Bar...

Come out and have some fun tonight. Even if you aren't bored.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Take me to the doctor.

"Can you believe Susan?" asked Cheryl as she clutched her Starbucks coffee cup.
"No way! She is INSANE!" replied Tina. And they remained silent thereafter.
Bathed in the moment that embodied awkwardness and soaking in the lathery realm that was indeed splendidly dark.
Stark contrasts remained the theme for the rest of the night; tossing and turning and churning throughout a confused
and infused drunken sunbeam. Mechanically separated in order to weed out the unsavourable moments whose intentions were nothing other than insidious. Coming forward and taking steps into the morning hours. Looking forward to the humour, which would ensue. Bring me your screeching banshees with their irresistible smiling cankles. Underestimation for the sake of its own invention; betrayed movements across bleak pictures bleeding frivolously in an arbitrary sort of way. "Tucked beneath all of my glorious luxury is a neigh emancipated woman whose life is not worth living," reflected Tina whilst Cheryl continued sipping away at her venti soy hazelnut vanilla cinnamon white mocha with extra white mocha, caramel and 13 extra shots.