Monday, January 31

Extricate doofus

Purge already. I'm quite prepared. This ends today. Testament to what a lot of crap everything was.
Muggins and I love listening to my brother play guitar. We could do it all day.
Chisel on old thing.
Fucking hell.
Obsessed I is.

Sunday, January 30

If you hang your head that way
and look at it
and count time with your fingers
and run one rough finger over dry lips
and not know what to do with love
and always have cold hands
and sit very still for very long
and wait for fuck knows what
and think that it's been way too long
and want to wrap yourself around something tangible to ground you to reality
and smile more inwards than outwards
and have a best friend (who probably doesn't know their status of 'best friend') far far away
you will explode.

Saturday, January 29

Bit down on the bullet now
I had a taste so sour
I had to think of something sweet
Love's like suicide
Safe outside my gilded cage
With an ounce of pain
I wield a ton of rage
Just like suicide

She lived like a murder
How she'd fly so sweetly
She lived like a murder
But she died
Just like suicide

Sunday, January 23

To me her skin felt soft, like butter, under the pressure of my thumb. I could spend all our time together just repeating that one single exercise, feeling her skin respond to my pressure. We sat by the window after dusk, when it was far too dark for us to be able to make out each other’s features. We heard a bird and we saw them pass by, the colour of delphiniums and light itself.
We used to wonder how those things worked.


I have a favourite video. The Joker by Fatboy Slim. It is unbelievable.

Friday, January 21

Broken hearts are for assholes

*Hey! Do you know what you are?*
*You're an asshole! An ASSHOLE!*
Some of you might not agree
'Cause you probably likes a lot of misery
But think a while and you will see...
Broken hearts are for assholes
Broken hearts are for assholes
Are you an asshole?
Broken hearts are for assholes
Are you an asshole too?
Whatcha gonna do, 'cause you're an asshole...

Maybe you think you're a lonely guy
Maybe you think you're too tough to cry
So you went to *The Grape*,
Just to give it a try
And Dagmar
*Without a doubt, the ugliest sonofabitch I ever saw in my life*
Was his name...
*One Two Three Four!*
The whiskers sticking out from underneath of his
Pancake make-up
*And yet he was a beautiful lady*
Nearly drove you insane
*Let's talk about Leather: LEATHERRRRRR*
And so you kissed a little sailor*
Tex Abel, starring in the latest Shepperton Production:
*Who had just blew in from Spain*
Sir Richard Pump-A-Loaf
*You sniffed the reeking buns of Angel*
The story of a demented bread-boffer
*And acted like it was cocaine*
Cucumber pud annexed to a fine whole-wheat loaf
*You were dazzled by the exciting new costume of Ko-Ko*
Then on Tuesday night, Ceasar's back in town
*In a way you can't explain*
Facing off in a no-holds-barred tag team grudge match
With Kona.
*And so you worked the wall with Michael*
Three-hundred-seventy-nine pounds of Samoan dynamite
*Which gave your back an awful strain*
Volcanic Hell
*But you came back on Sunday for the gong show*
Next Thursday, teen town's finest...*
But you forgot what I was sayin
''Cause you're an asshole, You're an asshole
That's right
You're an asshole, you're an asshole
Yes, yes
You're an asshole, you're an asshole
That's right
You're an asshole, you're an asshole

*Now you been to The Grape 'n' you been to The Chest*
*'N' now I think you know what you are: you're an asshole*

You say you can't live with what you been through
Well, ladies you can be an asshole too
You might pretend you ain't got one on the bottom of you,
But don't fool yerself girl
It's lookin' at you
Don't fool yerself girl
It's winkin' at you
Don't fool yerself girl
It's blinkin' at you
That's why I say
I'm gonna ram it, ram it, ram it
Ram it up yer poop chute
*Corn hole*
Ram it, ram it, ram it
Ram it up yer poop chute
*Fist fuck*
Ram it, ram it, ram it
Ram it up yer poop chute
*Wrist-watch; Crisco*
Ram it, ram it, ram it
Ram it up yer poop chute
Don't fool yerself, girl
It's goin' right up yer poop chute
Don't fool yerself, girl
It's goin' right up yer poop chute
(etc., repeats)

*Aw, I knew you'd be surprised

Sunday, January 16

Excessive fun.
Hours spent with Carcass who today pierced the fleshy tip of my thumb with one smooth, graceful movement. Wondered for half a second if the blood will attract her like a shark. Thankfully it didn't.
Electricity in head.
A person was talking to me about God and all I could think of was the Twilight of the Gods, the world tree. Olympus and its scandals, Ariadne and Bacchus, the rape of Danae. Shiva and Parvati and Kali, and Pele the volcano goddess.
"You sprung fully formed from my forehead like Athena, you have no father."
The fine balance. Drew after what felt like years. Loved it even though it looked hideous like hell. Heard Radiohead while drawing for crying out loud. And now I want nothing more. Well things would be super if Princess moved to Delhi or if I could go for the TFA show. But things are pretty super this way too.
I am your fucking Everest damnit.

Thursday, January 13


Muggins has a new name. She is still Muggins but there is an additional name. The extremely pretty, dainty kitten with a highly sophisticated sense of balance and grace is Muggins. The beast who rolls around endlessly in the dust and stalks imaginary rats is Carcass. The two names are complementary and integral parts of her persona.
Muggins mewls. Carcass roars.

Wednesday, January 12

I don't have anything to say. I've been so comfortable and complacent and cheerful that there's nothing that I'd say. Everything is somehow in it's place, wherever that may be.
Muggins is disturbingly fond of Pantera. Well I listen to it alot, so she has to. But the transformation it brings in her is incredible. She gets this dangerous dose of agression and moves around like she was a bull who owned the world. Then carpets and headphones suffer like God never intended them to.
If I had my way I'd spin everything out slowly like this and watch the Wands. The wands and coins, cups and swords. The wands strive for balance and beauty, the sensual over the sentimental. Hairy savages who hacked their gods to pieces and hung their flesh from trees. The ones who sacked Rome. Fear only feeble old age and death in bed. Don't forget who you are.
A raven's eye moon.
A baby- face moon.
A traitor's moon.