Just Needed to Share vol. 11

since Myspace runs on fucking spaghetti, i'll post this here;

When Frank Zappa's daughter knows nothing about music, you know it's over.

the guy who sold my parents their new couch told them about how his daughter was molested by the school bus driver. one of the guys who delivered and built the couch saw our dog and said he used to have one just like her. he had to give it away. the lady to whom he gave the dog died, and the dog ate her face. he told my mother this story, flies and all.

and here’s something else i did during downtime at work;

Selfishness overlooked according to a gestation calender’s length. Sibling heads split open, left bleeding overnight. Skyward granulated shrouds casting wormholes for us to fall into a low budget Hell. Day fly reflection cast in the ray-eye of a staple lined mirror ball gag. Pass off the day’s work so i won’t know "done" and i can count hours on inordinate tickets. Not that i’m unfond of pulp serenity, but i’d rather be a bleach irritant or phlegm cauterized sore-inspirations prior to issuance of disability certificates. It used to be only some ran away when muscles, though tough, were still vulnerable to snake betrayals.

Just needed to share.