New Halloween idea: buy health insurance for the undead,

they’re paper animals, a side of Eli Whitney and Lou Reed’s solo work,

this is what I really need: some burgundy and Celine,

oh hold me, you pseudo sexual anarchists, maybe I’ll become a really big knave


Some sort of bandit is on his own without me.

I can write to Phil Spector about the past I drew, the Kennedy era Camelot.

I haven’t heard Marc Maron get into his politics in days.

Even William Zantzinger got to update his blog.


Sausage, ham, or plays? Damn you Barajas and your vagaries!

Well, I can get to the Key Bridge, it grows, particularly when writing poems.

Tonight’s look, porn parody, because I had to look like a reference.

Will the authorities let me see Iranian women? Hell yeah.

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