In your dreams, show no mercy

Listening to: “Bad Days” – The Flaming Lips

Hi, blog. Long time no see. I’m sick of dealing with reality at this particular moment, so I’m retreating into your virtual catacombs. Well, I don’t mean reality, per se, so much as The System. Bills, insurance, parking meters, dirty dishes, job applications. That kinda shit. Which actually, is sort of the opposite of reality. I prefer real reality. The kind that doesn’t come in a can.

And when I find that unprocessed stuff, I’ll be sure to give you a holler.


I snapped a picture of this grafitti outside CVS in Allston. According to Wikiquote, it’s a Native American proverb:



Did you know:

Microwaved coffee isn’t so bad.


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Punch My Genitals

Listening to: “On the Radio” – Regina Spektor

I’m not quite sure how I’m still standing…well, sitting…awake, anyway, consider the precious little amount of sleep I’ve gotten lately.

But why no respite, my friend? Busy? No. Sexy? No. Angsty? Bingo. I won’t go into specifics, cause this ain’t that kind of blog, sugar.

The latest and greatest addition to my graffiti photo collection, straight from the streets of dear old Allston, Mass:


I arose much earlier than intended this morning, to fetch James his spare car key to southern New Hampshire, Tucker in tow. You know when you’re driving, and you have to focus really, really hard, and you realize what a bad idea it is that you’re driving? Yeah. 3 hours of sleep and a mild hangover’ll do that to you.

Not that it mattered anyway, cause the hood of my car started belching steam and smelling like molasses in NH. Luckily, we pulled into a station where the friendly mechanics of Londonderry fixed ol’ Haysoos (my car–long story) up right.

We also stopped at a pet store (mostly to get warm), where birds roamed around free, I had to stop myself buying a rainforest tree frog, and a giant German Shepard named Justice trounced Tucker…in the friendly way.

Had an idea for a play/radio play/short film/whathaveyou on twentysomething anxiety. All the news–the engagements, the deaths, the promotions, etc. etc., but completely fantasticalized.

i.e.: “I have news.”
“Oh yes?”
“Is it a girl?”
“No. I have slain the demon hordes.”
“Ohmygosh! That’s amazing! Congratulationssss!!! Can I see the battle axe?”
“The survivors shall crown me their empress when the first virgin is sacrificed.”
“OMG, I’m so jealous!!! I always thought I’d have done a blood sacrifice before I hit 24.”
“Hey, don’t feel bad. We all go at our own pace. I mean, you’ve already imploded more galaxies with your mind than I could dream of at your age.”
“Oh, hush.”
“Listen, you want to go out for drinks tonight?”
“Oh, I’d love to, but I’ve got to spawn with the Mrothgar breeding clan tonight.”
“Man, I can’t believe how old we are!”

….something like that.