theoretically,
i want to take you to the violet hour
and make sure you don't pay
and get us shithoused on their red rum punch
launch myself at you
once we're all but drooling in the lamp low chilter world
knock you back in that stupid, ridiculous, high-backed velvet chair
knock your chair into the other stupid, ridiculous, high-backed velvet chairs
so all the people who are the sort to go to the violet hour on a saturday night
hate us
and we get kicked out and told not to come back
i hope we can still go across the road for margaritas
i hope we're bruised and maybe there's blood in my mouth
theoretically
Showing posts with label combat kissing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label combat kissing. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
the rolling ball and being behind, in front of, and on top of it
it is quite possible
that this couch,
in the halflight of our living room,
has powers to suck people in.
i have experienced this.
onto other squidling topics...i feel my tentacles tingling a little.
the past few days have been somewhat immemorable. a few moments:
watching some kids at weiser concoct vegannaise out of olive oil and tofu and stuff.
smearing menstrualblood-ish dye into my hair and scalp, blood everywhere.
scavenging and cooking (of epic proportions) with hausmates...a cacophony of smells and delightz.
tuesday night i bedecked myself for rocky horror at the roots collective. sporting a new(old) leather vest and black-and-white striped tights and a full head of black curls, i reexperienced how fucking hot tim curry is and raised my voice in praise of cultfilm genderbending. wow. we played combat kissing in the yard and i weaved home on my bike, clicking away and hoping no cars got in my way.
then i dreamt that i went to a music festival somewhere in indiana! there were lots of groups of students and their teachers. food for students was free but they only had banana muffins and teacher food (cheese) cost 2-5 cents. i didn't have any money. then there were some anarchists, all scruffy men, organizing some kind of action.
i have been sprouting collard greens and catnip in the house and it is so so ready to be planted in the garden so that's what i'm off to do now.
sorry this is boring. sometimes (but only occasionally, if you live in the baohaus), life is boring.
that this couch,
in the halflight of our living room,
has powers to suck people in.
i have experienced this.
onto other squidling topics...i feel my tentacles tingling a little.
the past few days have been somewhat immemorable. a few moments:
watching some kids at weiser concoct vegannaise out of olive oil and tofu and stuff.
smearing menstrualblood-ish dye into my hair and scalp, blood everywhere.
scavenging and cooking (of epic proportions) with hausmates...a cacophony of smells and delightz.
tuesday night i bedecked myself for rocky horror at the roots collective. sporting a new(old) leather vest and black-and-white striped tights and a full head of black curls, i reexperienced how fucking hot tim curry is and raised my voice in praise of cultfilm genderbending. wow. we played combat kissing in the yard and i weaved home on my bike, clicking away and hoping no cars got in my way.
then i dreamt that i went to a music festival somewhere in indiana! there were lots of groups of students and their teachers. food for students was free but they only had banana muffins and teacher food (cheese) cost 2-5 cents. i didn't have any money. then there were some anarchists, all scruffy men, organizing some kind of action.
i have been sprouting collard greens and catnip in the house and it is so so ready to be planted in the garden so that's what i'm off to do now.
sorry this is boring. sometimes (but only occasionally, if you live in the baohaus), life is boring.
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