Book 'em, Dano.
this is tricky business. NOT FUNNY! Shape-shifters are present at many junctures. Do not be caught of guard.
Wow that lady looks like fun up there. I like the kitty too, he seems like he deserves to be put in the slammer. but wow that girl is cute.
That kitty is naughty as sin. I thought he looked like a perp.
I am over-whelmed by things like lol.
Wow! Kitties are so devilish.
MM, WAKE UP!! Kitties are sneakin' in...this is a danger you cannot afford...sniffle
PD, are you allergic to kitties or to demons?
Both...but mainly kitties. I can deal with demons if I drink enough Jack D.
I am very nervous.
Use your talons!
I am finally awake and have shot all the kitty/shape shifters. They were so rotten. But in defense of kitten 1, 2 and 4, they are reall kittens and will not be shot to death.
MM, did Kitten #3 revert back to the demon-shape upon death? Thank you.
Kitten #3 for a split second was a tall man in knee high shiny yellow boots and a hairy body. So hairy he needed no clothes. Hairier than MM, hairier than Yeti. His burnished fangs glistened with moist death juice. Then he shriveled and permanently evaporated. It was very much like a scene from Charmed.
Did you nap MM? Aw, you are so lucky! I hope I do not doze when we confer.
I have helped many, if only for a short time, nap and dream.
Yes PD I did take a brief snooze due to my lack of sleep for another lonely night in a row. I sneeze, I sniffle, I dope myself up on the anti-histamines but it's still a no-go for MM. MM is beginning to think he is allergic to his own fur. I have purchased power cuffs in an attempt to ward off the vibrations of the leaf-tree dialectic.
it takes only a moment to get from here to there...
Split second you are a dear.
Split Second, may I call you SS?
Do your power cuffs match your power collar?
I am venomous today and wishing for toxins to come in the disguise of fragrant flowers. I want to die from them.
Who would give you such flowers Tammy?
Randy, that is an interesting question. My collar is special and does not relate to the cuffs. The collar signifies my half animal status (half man, half woman, half animal = MM) but the cuffs are protectants from the axes of dread that permeate into my boundary from time to time.
Mind the fields.
The Root of Evil sends me flowers like this. I have always refused them but this time I wish to accept. I may risk death but I also may gain a cash prize or what's behind door number 3 which could be a lovely dinette set.
half-shark, alligator, half-man...
You have an interesting take on the body image.
pretty things are often poisonous... coral snakes, jellyfish, bright berries that give the stomach pains... the loveliest flower can be the most evil.
Power Mower, to wich fields do you refer?
Tammi, I for one am hoping you get that dinette set. I have always wanted one.
I am beholding the theories here. Flowers are evil. Feral persons. Mowed fields. To what end?
The mind fields of lavender distress.
Sloth you are so knowledgeable. In your log, do you read thick books about natural phenomena. It appears to me that you are somewhat of an expert.
Let's confer about your suffering MM. I do not like to hear anything troubling about you.
Lavendar distress is worse than other colors of distress, from what I have heard from the word on the street. Coming in second, from what I have heard, is maroon.
It is possible for me to enter the present but only through transient wormholes. I must read up.
These kittens that shift shapes...are they modernists?
I just saw this sucky film called "Revenge of the Sick"
I am accessible only late in the night after the proper ritualistic entrances have been opened through elixirs and trances. I will reveal more later.
I am rolling on the floor with expression.
The shape shifters are tribal aliens. Modernista, be very careful if you see one. Make sure you have your taser.
Hey all. I am just super happy today! I had so much oral sex last night, that I may not have it again for months.
I hate modern dance.
Preston you are a ho-bag. Do you have herpes?
sloth sees wormholes all the time, but always thought there were just worms in there. Sometimes one pokes his little wormy head out. Are these worms from the future?
Ah, so that is where Robert Smith and Bobby Storr got that term. Geez, now I am disappointed.
No, my ladies use dental damnations and my boys (I don't do very often) use condoms.
Sloth there may be 2 different kinds of wormholes but I am not sure. Do you have a book on them?
Preston I am a depressive. Maybe I could use some warming ovens of your skills to prevent me from killing myself. My dinette set is not coming through.
Hey Tammi shut your little puss face. I will jam your mouth full of fist then pork you with my pink torpedo.
Sure Tammi, I do pro-boner work. How 'bout next week?
Chunk of Drunk you are setting a good example. The tide is turning today. Let's eat and rape. Let's chew and punch our way into the undeserving closed holes of eyes mouths bums and the like. Metal pounder fists and sharp knife like teeth will propogate disfigurement on the ones who are useless.
I am frightened. Did you see what Fairy Butler did to my best friend? I am on the lam.
I love modern dance.
I am on the lame.
I just bled all over my pants. I have to sit very still.
hi krix, there is nothing lame about you. unless you have hurt your leg and have not yet told us.
anonymous, are you on your monthly cycle? or is this another cause of bleeding like self inflicted wounds? are you sure the blood is on your pants?
you are so gross! Why don't you jump around and air yourself out?
lameness is sometimes a state of mind, uni tard. It is not that bad. I am embracing it.
It is on my pants for personal reasons. I am not leaving my seat for many hours.
Lameness is truthful for all of us. It is useful as well considering your time machination of deliverance within the physical body of your own.
Lameness is bringing of fortitude when acknowledged. It smells of porpoise meat.
anonymous, maybe you need someone to bring you a treat.
I am forsaken, like christ on the cross.
I am chanting at a low frequency, remembering older times for all of us and mourning the loss of before yet bringing enhancement salutations in the form of nostalgic wave-fields and knowledge that memories re-order ghosts into puzzle formations that lock in desire and fruitfulness and block out negative sensory input.
wow blue sock...that is deep.it gives me the deep sleeps.
There is no time for foresaken feelings when foresaken only happens to those who are units of oneness. You are surrounded by prowling juggler hybrid clowns of fun and reinforcement.
You are shifting in scale. There are people who are oversized and they are fighting battles without clothes. There is a perspective problemwith classical landscape and watchers.
we are watching spectacles when not engaged. I am copulating and staring. It is okay.
Watching is for health Ham Paw. Watching performs cleansing in the eyes like flush for them. Performances become a product of the watcher, so do the fights and sexes.
The watcher produces the antagonistic unions. The watcher is somewhat orderly on the landscape, making little naughty tikes where there was only barren terrain.
once again! Disease begins in the bowels. It is of great concern. the intestines are clogging highways without exit ramp. This is artless in it's own way but is self contained and that is the key. The key does not know it's identity, but is young.
The scenes of naked fighting are so small and distant like little whispers. The flora is the ordering principle. The movements are tiny but harsh. The allegory is trouble-making on the horizon, creeping out from the curtains and caves. There is something coming.
the oversized ones are battled by the little ones. Nobody is dressed! And parts are swaying! Handicraft rules in this terrain. It is an arcadia for the unruly ones. I am unruly. the tank is not holding.
It is coming but we only make love and fight. I tell everyone that I love them. I beat down my enemies on last time. The flora is ruling?
What will be left when it is over? these are the skeletal roller coasters. Here the audience is gawking. I love everyone!!
The flora is a principle of symbol or sweetness. Is it domesticated or wild? It hovers in the foreground or above the scene in the sky. Is it like the curtains? Is it a product of the terrain or handed into the scene by an outside force? Is it godlike? Sometimes there is a larger one who is the focus. Is the larger one being spoken to by the smaller ones? Or are the smaller ones aspects of its personality? Or outward manifestations of its fears and dreads? I am trying to decode.
The large one must be taken down. it is the one in power and we hate it! the smaller ones are enraged. the smaller ones may be the larger one in a different time moment, but they hate it as do I. We are trying to push it down when we are not sympathizing for its fate as the witness.
My part is swaying and it is painful.
The flora is wildness but is contained in delicate tree and bouquet. Civilization is coroding nature, thats too easy. I am obvious sometimes.
the flora is sweetness and is unaffected by the battle. It is so perfect and merely windy. I am confused by myself.
Moments of domestication can anchor the general mayhem and nude wildness. Perhaps it is context providing. Perhaps it makes the scene more theatrical, like the curtains. And what about the roller coaster? It is wild like the people.
I am hiding from all of you.
The bouquet in the vase is in the foreground, the wind blows in from the side and swirls around into the fight scene. Incongruous but tasty. There is unifying principle in the movement from one into the other.
Floral sex you are Preston in disguise. If you are not careful you may be miniaturized and thrown into battle with wood clubs. It may be time for you to defend yourself in primal fights.
Dread of what is. Lets get it over with. quit our jobs. I have to meet all the strangers.
I have just the right club in fact a pile of them if I am shown the loin cloth. These men will not wear loincloths. They are freer than us. Who wants to be naked and miniature?
Okay, you found me out. What gave it away? The sex?
Yes Preston. It was your aroma of love that you wanted to loose on us.
I'm hobbling along.
oops, I've had an accident.
I am fearful of my chair. I am staying close to my seat.
My chair is the bane of my ass. I have an ass-ache.
If you are afraid of your chair and are staying close to your seat, you are truly a paradox. Are you ok? Can you spy on yourself with a compact mirror?
I am putting on a loin cloth to go meet PD for some purina dog chow at the pier.
why are you so tardy?
I have spied on myself and I saw the scary thing I dread. I must stay very still and not refill the printers.
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A blog about the New York artworld, body modification, mythical beasts, getting high, and wanting to die.