Signal-Partition-Angel-Void

fig.5gross) I've had it...

"Hello, angel popper and again hello. There's blanket enough for you if your horse has swept its business. Let's be real. Let's be kind and orderly through this swamp. I'm a beast, so let's be beasts and never stop"

Warm socks, everyone had warm socks and there was a tidy slide presentation about a small and nameless boat. No one had an IPhone but everyone was encouraged to laugh at the dancing bear whenever it came around in the song. If I recall, then after that there were puzzles and brain teasers handed out. There were animal crackers too!!! Oh, when I suggested that Shia Lebeouf should host his own episodic television show, much like the Twilight Zone, they asked to hear more. When I told them that as host he would actually be a mime, a mime host that would introduce each episode from inside an invisible box. When I told them that, it blew their minds, poof. Just blown away, I didn't even have to explain that the show was going to be a whole half hour of Shia Lebeouf miming and doing mime stuff in all of the roles, whoa!!! Right?

YOGA, It's a step closer to realizing our end times, the return of Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior (not to be confused with the historical Jesus (sans Christ) it's uncertain that that fellow ever existed or even paid taxes) and it also reserves epic seats at Medieval Times, Nostradamus will be there with Putin. If they get the embassy locked down first then everyone gets to kick a leper or at least a contemporary equivalent. They'll buy rugs and be pretend happy until the oil runs out.

So yeah, the Santa Train and the Chicagoans. It was unintentional but we were lucky enough to get onto the train platform as the Santa Train rolled in. Oh wow, my son will love this. The long flat car with Santa rolls to a stop right next to him and he's trying to register what it is he's seeing. Then dozens of horrible adults with cell phones spring into action. They crowd the platform around the car and make it difficult for us to move anywhere. The cars fill up with more asshole commuters that don't want to make room for the 2 year old. Later, on our very mundane and normal Pink line ride Thomas asks why can't we take the Santa Train, I want to take the Santa Train mommy/daddy. The Santa Train's blinky. Can we take the Santa Train again, and so on for the next 40 minutes. So here's a shout out to all of you horrible Christmas trolls, you terrifying selfish assholes that are flaking off the walls of this bowel and making the few remaining pleasantries left to us as odious and noxious as you can, well thanks.

"My lawyers on holiday, the T-shirts just got made," so strap it to a donkey for ease of use and best ergonomy. So Stanley sings, He's the king of the kings of all of the things... That his father has laid before ya... He's set his table with dishes radishes and porridge... I'm working at Planet Jesus... I'm eating fried cheeses... I'm washing some dishes and wishing I was kissing... All of the girls I'm missing...

Totem

Tonight is old. It's wett but current and bored. I'm watching nothing but stars in the often sky that happen... do... tonight is lame like old, young like song, even as blue... Equal after the sun, noon or scripted yellow you are to me... A we (as sound)

Songlet is Best

fig.0231) FizzGraf MT. "Magical, like a chorus of like minded souls in a froth of cotton fumes." Over fake doors, under refurbished ladders, gypsum board and bent yellow pipes offering us an unmade bed and a stained window. Our one chance at tomorrow. Magnetic guts from at least a thousand cassettes are strewn across the room. Hee-Haw style, fancy dress shoes cling to the floor like it's '86 all over again. Hee-Haw, goes the sound. Hee-Haw, we're closer then we were. Hee-Haw, it's hilarious. Listening for trains, leaning out over the rails like two people with no time at all. Better maps, that's what we need. We could use a melody for singing with this chorus; in whose curious presence more patients wait to be found. With hands over our heads, someone passes by and asks, "gender?" There's stars in this sweet tooth of mine and some atoms left from the sky, Tonight the whole angle of heaven sleeps without light. Ordering its coffee darkest, t

Whiskers, chanting, "swap me, swap me!"

Fig.32) Aging poorly We're just together, taking ourselves for a tidy sum of walk and now our toes are wet and cool in the Lak, beside a cool stone that could drive a modernist to their flint. There's a listening experience that feels prepared, "our's for now, ours it says! Here's the hammer and it's wrapped in its own design already. A union in time-space, this card is our greetings, our massive, our very patience is reflected in this resolve." Suddenly, there's a cut away and she's wearing the pants that I've made for her, slow blue like painted smoke . I'm thinking about her hunched over the kitchen table, something that's stuck. There's a carving knife in her hand but from here, it's the same as an old spoon. From here my computer is sitting on my guilty seat, I'm thinking about champagne and comparing it to a thick wad bees and wondering whats in it for me? It's an anxious season, filled with not enough of anythin

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