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Last night there was endless talk about penises. And spunk. And more Armin Miewes.

He always comes back.

Pollution index is up, I'm wondering what's right for me.

Let us eat cake. There are free pieces outside of the Northrop.
I'm going to the dentist tomorrow to get my teeth checked out. I have a wisdom tooth that exploded. I'll probably need surgery and all of that. Who knows how much it is going to cost..

Delaying the travel agency. But I always want to stop by there. Delays, delays, without a fucking Tom in front of it thank pigeons.

Last night I felt as if I was going to pass out. I did pass out. Wait.

This morning, "I'm depressed. I'll get you excited to sit with me at a table by the window in a blue cafe with a wonderful view. And then, I'll just mope, hardly say anything, and bring you down." It happens like clockwork, every time. How much longer can you take this? You want to take it, but maybe you shouldn't."

Jules escaped Le Curé.

My new name starts with a G.

Well, it's very early in the year.
So there aren't any bees out. You know, I've never liked bees. I've always had a sort of fear of them. I've never been stung by one. And.. I don't know. They've always seemed sinister.
To keep them is too adult contemporary for me at this time. The greatest enemy of an artist is to be content, right?
Victoria? Yes, mentioned in the bible book. Mike Allred, what have you done?

"I am an echo."

"When chickens get a taste of your meat.." - Tori Amos

You came back to me today. "You always did prefer the drizzle to the rain." - Tori Amos.

I preferred the rain.

That's one of those difficult ones, isn't it? Preferred. The word. We were ecletic but now we're dyslexic. I still won the spelling bee before you asked for the Pearl Jam tape. Bees? The Beekeeper is on its way, Belle.

Oh Carlotta, you too. I'm sorry, I don't know why, but I was always destined to be oblivious to all of it. So Winter covers our hill and our old grassy spots.

Okay, so I know that all of this is high contrast with the other sides, but it comes out sometimes. Make it stay? I'll try.

What can I expect? Nothing really.

"A buck fifty is a buck fifty." - Chris

Rolling with the Brits, Death and I were successful.

So this is Valentine's Day? Of Chapter 13 of Butt? The cheap chocolate that I ate didn't enhance my romance or my mojo. Valentino Day was yesterday. A sparkly red beaded choker, a sweet Barista, music from 1932, and the old charming "you treat her right"/"you DO treat her right" man - now THAT was it.

"I hear a voice..." no, I'm sorry, no telegram. No box. In regards to you, I am alone today. Danzig screams, "MOTHER!!!!"

"Is she alright?!?" Yes, my mother survived. She wasn't there. She was at work during the day when it happened.

The aptly named cat Smokey died from smoke inhalation yesterday, as my mother's house was destroyed by flame. The outside structure and many of the rooms were somewhat intact, if blackened. But all of her clothes and nearly everything that she had collected in her life was gone. There were a few unusual exceptions.

My sisters cried about their cat for hours of course upon hearing the news. They live with my grandmother but visited on weekends. They wondered if their camera with freshly taken pictures of Smokey was still around. Oddly enough, in a room with everything around it destroyed, it survived on a small end table, not a scratch. The pictures were still on it.

Also in a drawer of the totally ruined buffet in another room there was an old photo of my brother and I smiling wide, not even singed. Every other paper in that old wooden monstrosity from the 1920's was turned into ash.

In moments of chaos like this you realize how happy you are to still have your mom around.

Today in French, "Je ne suis plus un homme. Rien n'est sacré. Je ne suis ni vivant ni mort." Tie me to the front of an airplane. You can have wax, you can play Orpheus on your headphones. But I want to hear it.

Japanese mass suicides. American imitations for Valentine's Day.

Why you? Why doors between rooms that are miles apart? Did the car have a nice interior? I want to change my tone. I want to call the loco. It takes some time to write.

A Box elder bug hung out nearby the window. He's getting warm. Torani caramel syrup. C'est presque printemps.

A little over ten years ago, and I first saw the video. People in cages, being attacked by people outside of them. Very dark, very sweaty. It was lovely. It was how I felt.

That was around the time that I first started using the word fuck. Stolen computer paper, stories, Vern Jackson, and fuck.

There was this smell of lemon scented wood cleaner. There was always a place to go in Uptown. I declared that I would not touch a Martini for as long as I could, and succeeded for five years.

Not too long later, Angie. The tree frog on the dorms. Locks of blonde hair twirling on our way home, from wind through the bus window. God fuck us.

"MMMMEN ST!NK! BOSSSS! ST!NK! HUNGRY." - 2

Always getting out of here just five minutes late every morning. I don't know what it is with me. I'm always five minutes late.

I felt uncomfortable at my work today. I just stopped in for a small purchase and a visit. And to inquire about future hours which need to be acquired due to a proposed trade in lieu of my flying away.

Yesterday I thought of the new train here, the light rail. I want to ride it before I take it to the airport.

Difficulties with the Gang of Four, Mr. T.T., the walking double date. Difficulties only due to my preconceived notion of discomfort, socially. I was here, you were passed out over there. You were passed out, I was here.

Perfect timing.

Sun go away. Blinding over-salivating. Not hungry, flat mineral water.

Louise is still reading and will be available for a chat with me soon. Reset on her radio. Chevalier is back, much thanks.

One million shells from Germany in five hours. Sounds heard in London. I found color pictures of the horizon-blue uniforms of the French.

I can't take my own pictures. Health insurance and the dean's list. Howard wants to be in charge.

The stapler seems to have a long, begging mouth, and a jaw so parallel with its snout.

Yuppies closed down a large half a mile area today and yesterday so that they could cross country ski by putting snow in the streets nearby my place of employment.

Mmmm. I'll eat their flesh. Mmm, kill yuppies. Turn them into pastries. Goes good with a light roast and German chocolate.

And coconut.

Let us dine on this flesh!