Garbled voices are speaking to me. I am trying to draw the black oily ether from which caverns and flora grow but it is hard, my gut is distracting me, it droops to the floor and causes my face to get lowered to the drawing, wherein the drool puddles form on the nice fine black lines. But anyway. It adds atmosphere.
So. I am happy to read Reverend Jen on Artnet. I'll take her over Charlie Finch any day. I like her pink leotard, if only I had the gumption to wear one "on the ground" but happily for you I have no such gumption.
I am in need of narcotix. Anyone who has them please send them. I will do almost anything.
I am drawing and pretending I am in the caverns, shadowy and blackened like the catfishes.
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My eyes are like bridge tokens, they sparkle in the lights of the night. I am excited for everyone I love to loom large like the Mt. Rushmore. I am my own pervert.
I have left this place.
Drawings should draw themselves, is my feeling. I should not have to babysit my hand, the pen and my paper. And plus can't I be making love all day instead and still have drawings at the end?
There is a predisposition towards alienation which I admit is a faulty way to go. I heard that if I do more jumps that I will feel more a part of the human race.
To the teeth and face. Please rip it right up.
Make love and drawings. That's the spirit of re-fluxus. MM, I am sending you a 36C salute.
Hi PD. Hey you are right. Why not have it all. If the drawings smear somewhat that is ok.
PD, have you seen Extras? It was on HBO last fall, they are re-running the episodes from the first season. It is so funny.
No, I haven't. I heard so many good things and who doesn't love R. Jarvis? I gave up HBO after the Sopranos, but I should get it again.
If you need help with the drawing technique I suggested, I can help.
PD please come over and visitate upon my hands, my head, and my gut. I am trembling and quaking in the mistakes of passionless drawing. My drawings resemble mudslides in the dark. Only not as fun.
No offense to anyone who has lost person or property due to a mudslide.
I am on my way, MM. I think we need to tame this mud, you and I. We will make beautiful mudpies together.
I am ready. There is glee now.
We can put on Shellyann Orphan and the Ocean Blue and think of Philly in the 80's and early 90's. Mammaries!
May I watch?
Yes PD. And share some bacon? I know that has nothing to do with Philly but don't you think bacon would make it more fun?
Yes Perv. Please watch. We are very performance oriented.
A bacon wrapped cheesesteak perhaps? And a pretzel and tastykakes for dessert?
Yum me want now. Me hungry.
Mornin' MM & PD! I am messengering over a poo smoothie to wash it all down, plus for the energy boost. You will like it.
Slothy how did it go? Where are you? Can I call you like right now? Like can I?
eye am at the new studiddly, ems, looking at Mount Crappington. Cell phone is set on "stun," so call away.
Anything that comes from the mouth and drips,drools or splats on paper is re-fluxist.
Hi guys! Hi sloths did you havce fun/ did you survive with all your limbs in tact?
at the top of mount crappington, take a poo, it will feel victorious. mm & pd, i am jealous of the mammaries dance. can i be the sandbar? i want to play.
Dubz teh re-fluxus movement dictates that you be the vegan ham in the PD/MM breast sandwich. We are the spongey bread, see? You are the mock meat. Corny is the drool a.k.a. mustard, because every sandwich needs a moistening agent and Sloth will be both the plate and the toothpick in the sandwich. The steadying forces.
plate and toothpick means slothy has a protrusion; a stiffy of sorts on which we must skewer ourselves. corny will drip on us from above. i like this sandwich idea for reasons i cannot describe. deep sandwich fixations. therapy could help but i choose not to help myself.
Dubz it is my belief that when you become the item upon which you fixate, it is a form of self-help. Self-soothing if you will. Mental health is not a concern here.
Troll, about your earlier question.
Yes.
Yes, Dubzy will be our tofurky between the soft breads. I am so hungry at this moment--please gimme a sandwhich with tasty corn mustard too.
MM Your almost where you need to be. Dont resist. Refocus your committments. The leaves will be turning soon. Industrious urges are creeping across nerve endings. Something must be sacrificed to create anew.
That will be $2.99, please.
Thanks Regi, I have mailed you $2.99 in bridge tokens. Thank you for your advice.
MM How considerate of you to pay for my services in bridge tokens. I want to travel away from here to go to Burningman but I have to miss it again.
I needed the $2.99 for the Subway sandwich that I have to buy as an excuse to stop into the record store next door to secretly buy Lisa Germano's latest CD. If my musical nemesis found out I was going I would have to bring home some pop record trash.
Im mourning the end of summer.
MM, I am thinking of you.
Hi observer. Listen. Can you hear the kerbangers or is it just me. They are banging away in my head, it is close and loud. I will put the satin suit back on. Perhaps the rippling of the shiny fabrix will muffle the incessant knocking balls. Hi.
i have a secret satin suit that i wear to clean the toilet. it has a trap door you know where. it's dusty mauve and i tuck it into tube sox. so what? i set trends.
Dubzy, satin is the cloth of the camel, and it shows off stains beautifully well. I wish you 2000 perfect flushes.
Morning is blunt like butter knife. Or something. It is UF's birthday today. yay for UF having been born.
HAPPY B-DAY UNCLE FRITZ! Save me cake.
hi tards. Was UF's birthday yesterday or today(Wednesday?)? Happy birthday to UF! I hope you saved him an extra poo sandwich.
i have today and tomorrow left at the phart palace known as beige. It is tedious. tres tedious. tonight the scabs gang is going to accompany me to winnies for karaoke round 2. scary, right?
FB I am glad your departure is approaching. Maybe you will have fun tonight? You are such a karaoke queen that perhaps your fun will transcend the weirdness. Or something.
HPPY BDY UF!!
Happy birthday uncle fritz! The formal-occasion ping-pong paddle is loaded and ready to administer the bum-smax, one for each year.
He's ready to be birthday beaten up. He likes that. I think. At least that's what I make him say.
I am trying to make a birthday post for the UF and blogger is a-fouling me. Up to its old nasty trix.
happybirthday! UF!! hooray!
I hope UF is wearing his birthday suit on honor of the day.
xoxox Happy bday Fritzy. I slather on the slaps
Of course, yes, he is nude Corny. All special occasions should be celebrated nude.
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