i drink a little more than i should and a little less than i'd like
to. i smoke like a fucking chimney. i play too much chess for
someone who isn't that good at it. i want to shake muhammed ali's
hand one day, but i feel like that would be insensitive and
redundant. I don't trust anyone who doesn't think that everyone
sucks. i'm looking for something that i swear i'll never find, but
isn't that the point?
hey, here's a joke:
two men are walking down the street. the first man says to the
second, "you're looking pretty happy lately, chief." the second man
says, "i know it, i've picked up a new hobby and it's changed my
life. i feel ten years younger. my sex life is better. sunshine and
fucking rainbows." the first man says, "well, what's the hobby?"
second man says, "bees. i keep bees. i think i have a few thousand
now." the first man's confused, so he asks, "where in the hell do
you keep five thousand bees? you live in a studio apartment."
second guy says, "I keep 'em in a cigar box in my closet." the
first man says, "won't that kill the bees?" the second man says,
"yeah fuck 'em."
What I’m doing with my life
booking, writing, radio, web tv, music
working on a life imitating art
I’m really good at
cunnilingus and gentility
The first things people usually notice about me
i'm not wearing pants
Favorite books, movies, shows, music, and food
i live and breathe music. hit me up if you wanna talk about it.
and flashdance is my favorite movie.
and i like food and all and i eat a sensible amount of it but it's all such a pain in the ass. would rather not have to eat to be alive.
The six things I could never do without
seaweed, repetition, rubber bands, jackie chan, repetition, corn flakes
I spend a lot of time thinking about
symmetry, the overwhelming question, blankets, things that sound like they'd be funny, roof drinking
On a typical Friday night I am
bum wine and loitering
The most private thing I’m willing to admit
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows? . . .
I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
You should message me if