June 2011
May 2011
watching the numbers flicker on my Lost torrent is making me hate the world/love all of god’s creatures/hate the world/sunshine and lollipops/hate everything
thalliumtea asked: Ey. 'Ow you doin'?
timesick with futures, a half an hour of a distant era crashes into downtown big city — unfolding those thirty minutes with wonders and horrors.
telecircuited phone ads run rampant in pretty patterns, sending supermemes into the locals heads. they transmit text via thought, and heads gush blood with overload. minds are overwhelmed in datapatterned letters. lights of futuremen, crystal eyes...
and I ask my lovers, do you know, where the desert...
fuck, man. I am so tired of being disappointed and infuriated. it’s really tiring. it really is. when it gets to that point where it feels like it’s all day, every day…god damn. thank fuck I’m a day drinker.
not related to memorial day or anything like that
I’m just infuriated with the world today.
cognitive dissonance?
mrfb:
I never understood the rationale behind the punk kids who thought that SLC Punk was reaffirming to their lifestyle, or the people who came away 500 Days of Summer only thinking about how wonderful the first 290 days were.
making up for lost time
Renfield Smith never remembered what he was doing in his house.
sometimes he’d make dinner for two — eat, and the other plate vanished. he’d find himself watching movies he hadn’t put on. he would clean up messes he never made.
he never went outside. he never opened the doors.
sometimes, when he left the kitchen, he would look over his shoulder — he would turn...
writer's corner: insider trufax
most of the time…
what you consider off-the-cuff complete crap that means nothing, people will love forever.
what you consider genius, thought-out, intricate wonderworks, people will be like ‘what? huh? fuck this’ forever.
yeah.
WHAT ARE THE 69 FACES OF LOVE
dead cenotaphs shaped like lovers throw anonymous names into the night sky. everyone watches deformed freak babies born out of craigslist missed connections dance like disco fire. the antichrist and dj jesus spin new, cooler-than-the-future tunes for everyone else.
out in the club, the scene — storybook girlfriends and boyfriends drowning in bourbons and divisions subsidize conversations...
2 tags
listen. I don’t think you guys understand how much I love kittens. I mean, I may be a big old bastard but I do have this weird soft spot for tiny animals — but nothing so much as when a kitten is still a wee little thing and does the pawing around and the sadface little groping and the awkward adorable biting and the passing out in the most uncomfortable and bizarre positions ever....
recently downloaded;
Doctor Who series 1-4
Doctor Who complete specials
Lexx (all four seasons)
Firefly (series)
Rome (series)
Dexter seasons 1-4
The Mighty Boosh (series)
awwww yeah.
2 tags
lamesoeur asked: How did you know my grade school nickname?
lamesoeur asked: Nancy Pickard: the gritty reboot.
lamesoeur asked: If I start wearing vests and grow stubble, I'm hanging myself in the bathroom.
phone is out of order, fyi. dunno why — musta got some rain in it.
PAID FULL INSURANCE — VERIZON CAN FIX IT TOMORRAW
I have no money and I must spend
if Harlan Ellison wrote college slice of life fiction!
every so often on facebook I go ‘oh, holy shit, he/she’s fucking married, how the hell did that happen’.
corners of the islands of madness
Mr. Perkins-Strohd patrolled the shores of the island with a diligence that bordered on obsession. in his younger years, he had found a boat, empty of passenger or possession, and it became his. since then, Mr. Perkins-Strohd found his love for the sea surrounding the island, and would often row back and forth to the city, rather than the bridge.
as the years grew onward, Mr. Perkins-Strohd was...
"are you even allowed at playgrounds?"
apparently so. the sky wept blood with the sound of babies screaming, but, you know, I was there.
Jhon Murdersohl was the last living avatar of the Master, the great outer one, the integrator. He had executed the rites — placed the scrolls within himself, through hours of torturous, inexpert surgery — and bathed once in the blood of the only woman he ever loved, until it dried, and cracked on his skin. He did not cry — the Master would not like that.
the portal he sat in...
dear new followers
I haven’t been paying attention, but now that there’s like…twelve of you in the past howeverlong…hi? who the hell are you? WHAT’S UP NIGGAZ
I'm pretty sure that two of my roommates have been...
and it’s turned them into weird, paranoid giggling little girls.
jesus.
hey you guys today's been really weird so I'm just...
yeah, good.
the scalpel bit into the sick elephant’s side.
the surgeon’s eyebrow raised as the dead skin began to squirm. restless glowing letters, in otherworldly, ouroborean shapes began to seep through from underneath. the sickness inside the rotting elephant vomited into our realm - a terrifying, slick unreality spooling out from the guts. howling uncreatures spoke from flowing intestinal...
101 Damnations
I never should have taken that dog.
it came from the island, just outside the city — my friend gave it to me. I wanted a corgi, but I looked into that puppy’s wide, brown eyes, and I couldn’t say no.
at first, the dog was affectionate. it would play with me. we would walk around the city together. it had a rugged brown pelt spotted with white.
then, things grew strange....
So you mean...
adagioamericana:
I’m not famous yet?
as I was explaining to someone, my ambition is to be famous enough to turn on the news and see myself doing something jackassed and go I TURNED THE WORLD INTO A TABLOID!
that’s all I want.
crazy egomaniacal things I think when I'm waking...
I have to get up and take a piss, but, as per normal, I have killer morning wood.
and the stoners are downstairs, ruckusing in the kitchen. probably discussing cereals with the most marshmallows, and aliens.
you know what, fuck them. I will go and I will piss and if they have to stare at the grandiosity of Daniel Michael Vaccerelli’s amazing morning package then by jove they will. serve...
the prophet-man, stuttering blood past broken teeth, shouted from the street corner. traffic zoomed past.
the gate of the immortals, home of the ab-legions of the Master, the great outer one, the integrator! I await my integration! I await my integration!
he fell over, clutching his chest. from within, underneath, he could feel his skin turning soft, and his ribs, uncoiling. like tentacles....
"WHATEVER, YOU LOVE MY HUSBAND MORE THAN YOU LOVE...
listen, if he didn’t look so good in that cheerleader uniform, we wouldn’t be doing those filthy things with the traffic cones and giraffe corpses.
and also, let’s be honest — Left-i and I could be brothers, so.
1 tag
expanding on a slightly bitter tweet-moment, as it...
you know, I meet a lot of my chick friend’s boyfriends. and…most of the time, I end up thinking to myself, what the fuck are you doing. this is some short, vegan nonentity of a man. he’s not even clever. he’s not even…anything. he’s obsessed with boring things that you don’t like either, and what the fuck.
or, you know, it’s the opposite direction...
Spriggscraft
it came that the love of my life, Penelope, and I moved to the island. we could see the city lights, and the beautiful bridges, and at night, everything was lit up. like fireworks.
Penelope and I took a small house on the edge of the island. near the sea. we were surrounded by happy older couples, and to the distance, near the shore, was the Hook. an unfinished, groping arm of the island. when I...
roommate with tiny hands fixed my glasses, somewhat
I never thought I would curse my giant hands so
