Wednesday, January 08, 2003

hey bloggies, damn i love those old pics of john. totally klebold.

the last supper thing wasn't me -- our graveyard photo shoot was the day after the "night of the sextons," out at jael's parents house at the fort henry dam in kingsport. me and barbara and donnie armed with a poloroid a few props and a thin film of multicolored sweat. good times. the night of the sextons was pretty epic -- altho all i remember is drew commanding everyone to "cast off their timepieces;" obsessing on the light of the moon behind the fog on the lake; and tangentially ranting about the fall of the soviet union. and the phrase, "not dangerous, just freaky and jerky," although i think that was a holdover from another time.

but now, i'm thinking the last supper thing sounds familiar.

seeing that picture of john also reminds me of when all those guys would show their affection by breaking into our apartments when we weren't home. didn't someone climb up the outside of the hippie house? didn't someone (kurt) break into 212 and melt candle wax all over the floor? didn't a bunch of you hide all the furniture in the hippie house down in the basement? do you have any idea how bad it is to wake up and not be able to find your furniture? didn't someone (donnie and lynn) nearly get us kicked out of 212 before we even moved in? didn't someone (kurt) turn everything in the apartment upsidedown? didn't someone (donnie) hide beers in people's underwear drawers? do you have any idea how bad it is to find a can of Schaffer Light mixed in with your socks when you are late for school? good times.

listening to the plez, by god. tip of the hat. such beauty. i am weeping as i write this. here's a download. email scott and tell him to make his CD available. also tell him you want to be on the list for his email newsletter, Plezpantations.

this lattie collins thing is notfuckingrightman. i'm crawling back under my rock now. its the end of the world.

speaking of the end of the world -- i was reminded today that after 911 Mohammed Atta's passport was supposedly found atop the burning rubble at ground zero. does anyone remember this report? i do. two jet airplanes full of fuel smash into the fucking world trade towers which then collapse, but somehow we are to believe that Mo's passport miraculously flew out of his pocket, sliced thru the windshield, flew thru the burning building, and fluttered down to the ground so slow that the building collapsed before the passport landed. then "a guy" picked it up and took it to "the authorities," who reported it to "the press." then the monkeys all belched ammonia. shrieking amphibians rained down from the sky. holy shit, i'm a size six!

read down to number 3.


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