Trick Shots: Holler at yr physics.

Dear Fellow Limbs,
I don't wanna be your friend, I just wanna be your lover, no matter how it ends, no matter how it starts; the lyrics looping as does the seemless comma on the Wheel of Fortune. I'd like to Final Cut Express all of you into a pop-up book and those sentimental musical Wedding Cards just might be the chorus I've been looking for. Turn. Cut. Turn. Lights on all over the carpet I've vacuumed all your footsteps and uploaded them into the iTunes. next to Radiohead's Rainbow, track "All I Need." The apartment is a jewelry box that needs to get picked up, dropped and shaken. I moved the bed, it now faces the North towards not exactly Montreal. Pablo, I'd love to go to Bermuda, to all 126 of them. But Whole Foods is a different story that sells elitist toothpaste to make the rest of this narrative gluten free and Animal Testing free. Won't be testing any plots on April anytime soon though she has been pissing all over the bathroom rug as her friendly way of subverting blogger.com. I feel as though I am stuck in some chamber of my brain and cannot reach you. Note only to P-Lo: I miss u. terribly. Lets meditate? Thibault: where the fuck are u. On the loose somewhere without a bicycle on the brooklyn lager side of things. What does the FAM look like all the way from there? When're we reading in a living room full of the class of 2009 again? Every sentence seems to arrive as a tryptich like meals divided by morning/noon/nite. That Michael Keenan can only function post-midnight in a darkroom makes all the sense like shutters do to the moon and blinds to the sun. Am secretly protesting against nails and teeth as both function out some necessity for anxiety which is truley so last century and the skinny pant as a symbolic will to "survive." I think we should get a house. for the blog only, literally. Its getting stuffy in here. CLos has already started moving into the shack in the backyard and where is Yoyos? at some Forbes benefit in the bathroom? Yos, where are u? Stevie B is down the street slicking his bangs to the side like "Shit FAaam" and I mightas well be a seal in antartica tryen to research on how the fuck to swim out of a dream. I'm sick of gambling, sick of chance, and sick of money. Do you ever get like this? Language is beginning to look useful but in a form that can be held and squeezed. I picked up Api yesterday and squeezed her until the word "meow" fell out of her mouth and dragged itself onto the floor. to which she attacked like a ball of yarn. A little bibliomancy for tonite: irradiate/gaudy/deprecate/omniscient/fester/hegemony. How boring these words. Reporting Live from Transit St., bebe le beast.