Tuesday, November 7, 2006

Mite's ain't right.

From chatting up models in ridiculously short skirts as the DJ at a fashion parade, to snorting cocaine off a kitchen plate in a shed, to watching AND ACTUALLY ENJOYING Mission Impossible 3 (I'm so sorry creativity...), waking up in strange houses, fighting off gigantic chicken termites*...these are the days of our lives.

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*Chicken termites: Chicken termites are very scary. They appear one or two days after you encounter cocaine (chicken). They do not have teeth, they have a mouthful of tiny chicken beaks and they eat at your insides and whisper doubt in your mind. They have tiny legs like a millipede, but they have itchy scratchy chicken feet. MILLIONS OF THEM. They are impossible to kill, and they are always hungry for more chicken. They're scratching at me right now to be honest. So I'm writing gibberish to keep them at bay. BEWARE THE CHICKEN TERMITES. AAAAAAAAAAARGH.

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Finally, I am going to the coast tonight. I have a map. And apparently, there are bean bags there. I'm going to sit on them. And I'm going to walk to the beach and I'm not coming back until I have made some sort of resolution about shit. My friend is loaning me her laptop, which is lovely. So if there's wireless reception down there, I'll come on here n' say hello. If not, suck my fuck fuckos, I'm getting all Crusoe on yo' ass.

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I'm going to test out a new writing style. Instead of writing long winded angsty posts, I'm just going to write SOOKSOOKSOOKSOOKSOOKSOOKSOOK.

It's art.

And I am the future.

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