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putting the noose back in nuisance.
shoot me
engulfed

if i can get all my publicity shots taken with a .22 rifle we’ll have nothing to worry about ever again i promise . . .

spitting in the future's eye is not recommended. when things get too transparent someone pours ink in the tank & we all put on our wool glasses, it's third rate second nature what do you expect. there is a lot of catching up to do. i graduated [!] & am going on tour [!] with two different bands in two months [!!] & hereby disown the recent past with a flourish worthy of a bank-vault full of sequins, i'm simply relieved to be getting the technicolored fuck out of here. the last few months have been somewhat like prolonged immersion in a tank of cement. "but seriously i can get out of this any time i want!" HA again. i hate to say i told me so but that's what other people are for, right. IF YOU PLAY WITH FIRE YOU ARE LIKELY TO DEVELOP A FIERCE & INSATIABLE APPETITE FOR NAPALM. or maybe i was born with it

& i wish i could say i REMEMBER graduating but there's a little hole in my memory there which is only too perfect considering what the four years leading up to it were like. there are great beaming photos of me looking like cat-choking-on-canary in my silly square hat but hey! they weren't taken close up enough to see the OUT OF ORDER sign behind the eyes! score one for selective unconsciousness, score two for THE AMERICAN WAY. & for my next trick, i shall disappear completely, off the face of the earth, for an extended period of time--stop me if you've heard this one before...

it won’t be pretty, & neither will the aftermath. quit while you can, pet the jelloid kitten sitting in your skull where your brain used to be, remember you did this to yourself. bed is made, commence telling the truth in it, or b) wake the fuck up & smell the towering inferno. just because a horse can be led to water does not mean it is not a plot if i am asked to follow it. ie: what the fuck do I have to gain out of this being-led-to-water, i have a full bottle in my purse, are you going to try to drown me while the public is distracted by the bucolic scene of this stately stallion sipping at the stream? is the pope blue in the face? who would jesus do? why haven’t my vitamins been turned into amphetamines yet? all these goddamn questions are making my eyes climb out of my face like it's a burning building which well,



the point: here tomorrow, there in a few weeks, & anything in front of that may as well be an oncoming train, sometimes it's not worth taking your sunglasses off

oh yeah &: Ask Me About My 90 Page Thesis, hahaha

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hard to kill anything with a .22---

aw, why'd you have to drag KILLING into this whole mess? i've heard gunshot wounds are the new fashion accessory

am i the only one impressed at the penmanship of "Here Comes Bad News"?

i was too, especially considering how quickly s/he must have had to do it to avoid being hit by the everpresent oncoming train
[though i forget which station it was in--it's much less impressive if it was the G line for example]

wow. hilarious words. a fascinating read. Poetry that I dig. hey! Can I be your roadie? Bonnaroo sounds like fun! And Gastonbury - wowsa! very amp-ed post. Doesn't sound like you need an amphetamines. bon voyage, madame. keep it high and bright!

oh yeah. What's the thesis? a Dialectic on the Selective Unconscious? ha!

haha i am at bonnaroo right now, being a complete tool by hiding in the VIP tent on someone else's computer. i have no idea whose computer this is, even! but i was paranoid about my 100+ message inbox so i "had" to go online. my formerly black boots are now completely brown with mud & i am laughing at all the hippies in their sandals being swamped by the dirt. it's surprisingly civilized here if you're performing or on staff--we get free food, free drinks, free showers while everyone else pays $5 to look at a pizza & $7 to shower [literally! this is the case! no wonder these fuckers never bathe]

my thesis involved an exhaustive quantity of rides on the N train, disembarking periodically at the major stations, & sociological / historical / demographic analyses thereof, accompanied by a bunch of photos--the topic was Psychogeography of New York City. when i submitted the proposal for it all the sentences were at least a paragraph long. the suggested length for theses at new school is like 50-70 pages, but i will always be an overachiever to the point of obscenity.

I was appalled by the money-money-no food allowed, you gotta buy from our corpor-RAT vendors stuff on the Bonnaroo site. And to arrive there for find out a shower is $7 is obscene. oh well. If the psuedo-hippies can afford to pay for the tickets and the fast food, they can pay for a shower! damn.

I was close on the title: "Selective Unconscious" - We all select where we live, right? Maybe not tho! ...and I had no clue you were doing sociology or is it psychology? I've been telling myself for years to go back to school, but I really don't know where to start or what I'd want to study! I like all subjects. Life seems to be my chosen teacher. Part of my brain just wants a degree and the title that goes with it. I can relate to being an overachiever.

i majored in writing/journalism, but was originally going to do neuroscience or psychology--the project is mostly just an unwieldy hybrid beast of sociology & journalism with wads of psychology thrown in here & there & a bit of healthy speculation [i did originally want to do fiction when i started out as a writing major, but gradually changed my mind]
i appreciate the degree because it validates what i've been doing / not doing with my life for the past four years. why not go back to school & just study whatever subjects you find interesting? even if you're "majoring" in one subject you generally have plenty of latitude to take other classes, unless you're going to some rigidly-curriculumed shithole like columbia which i made the mistake of attending once...i'm pretty sure in most places you can even get a vague 'liberal arts' major & not even have to take the requisite amount of classes in one discipline to "major" in anything!

So it's the same in grad school? I'm talking about MFA err something. MA, not BFD, whatevs. I considered doing pharmaceutical writing but would have to take undegrad lab courses! ick! no. kidding. There just seems to be no latitude in grad schools. I already got a non-degree from an acting school, so if I do "school" again, I bloody well get another letter to add to my name;)

i'm pretty sure new school has a general studies program that will let you take classes in whatever beyond a ba/bfa/etc. haven't really looked into that though, as i'm sort of hiding from the possibility of grad school at the moment & coccooning myself in the delusion that i will be able to get a job once i get back from touring that will a) pay reasonably well & b) not fire me/inspire me to quit in a month. fortunately my delusion-drive is operating at full capacity these days or i'd be seriously fucked.

helen of destroy

(Anonymous)
I wanna dance with you
hold you close
try to restrain
you

your lips
I see them and I want them

your hands
I wanna hold them

your black eyeshadow
I want to see through it
and get it on me
on my face

I wanna hold you down
and release you too

when you're at the train station
can I sit beside you?

helen of destroy - continued

(Anonymous)
I wanna worship your every utterance
lick your feet and
try to please
you

I wanna take photo's of you
as you leave your house
and hang them on my wall

I dream of you each day
and night

and all I think about
is pleasing you

I wanna take off your silk stockings
and smell them

can I be your
doormat?

no, you really don't
i've heard there are a lot of really lickable feet at the bottom of the east river though, check down there--also a lot of whiny goth chicks who look like drowned raccoons--i know you like those

"but seriously i can get out of this any time i want!"

I always thought when I got my degree I'd have hope. Ha! I don't know a damn thing and I'm probably dumber than I was in primary school

Say no to writng a thesis is my advice

GOOD LUCK with your tour. Like, hope you don't die / play well


Re: "but seriously i can get out of this any time i want!"

the worst part is i've only been out of new york a week & i miss the goddamn subway & am hatching plans to do the equivalent of my thesis for EVERY SUBWAY LINE. i am waiting for the bad-idea light to go on over my head but it's sleeping on the job.
college taught me that prestige is toxic, columbia university students are scared of people with nonwhite skin & therefore can be massively price-gouged for resold drugs, & that sleeping through your graduation ceremony is the best way to end it all [there is a picture of me accepting my diploma & shaking the dude's hand. i have no memory of actually doing this. i am the master of selective unconsciousness]
the show we did at glastonbury went well...then two of us ended up getting on the super-exclusive backstage bar stage at like 8 in the morning with a mexican gypsy-punk band who kept asking the audience for drugs & playing for at least an hour, which was epic. & apparently according to my drummer there is a Cute London Boy coming to one of our shows this weekend who asked about me, so uh. thanks for the no-death wishes, will need them in the days to come / when attempting to return to the good ol' USA [have a letter in my backpack from my lawyer saying i am Legally Allowed to leave the country, but customs dudes can be utter blockheads, so. here's hoping my return doesn't involve anything remotely resembling handcuffs]

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