i saw vapid.

i met vapid.

he SANG FUCKING MAKEWAY.
HE SANG MAKEWAY.
and my heart won't bleed for you.

HE SANG MAKEWAY.
you must realize
the times i drove in my car
to that song, BEGGING
that i would see it live
knowing that the riverdales
would never get together again
and then when they did
that they would never tour.
and i saw it. the last song.
could have cr(d)ied.
and now everybody's gonna makeway.

there were 10-20 people max. they made money because a group
of frats were there when their train had a layover.
me n moe played pool with some nice ones.

HE SANG TV WORLD.
and i realized there's noone
alive
i'd rather meet
or see.
no one.
not even silver sun.

greatest live. ever.
ever.
vapid and a.d.d. mike have the funniest moves.
and they were so happy. and so happy.
and i met vapid.
my neck is sore.
greatest voice ever. no really.
can i express how happy i was/am?
no!

i am making canvases.

required reading: "the book" - alan watts

mblog.com/trystero
showcases my ego in new and enticing vapidness.

mississippi love
is a hit with the open mic crowd.
now if i could just stop playing it
so goddamn fast.

my reverend and i were meant
to
be so avidly.

parliament lights remind me of matthew brantley
and first wintry days
on the painting studio steps.

i am a flash in the pan.

I feel the need to get an honest to goodness
blog.

advice or help?

birthday presents to get for me:
really nice margot tenebaum lighter.

after deleting my needless drunken post,
i must say dr. frank was swell.
his cynicism didn't hide how much he really wanted
to go out with jessica n' us that eve tho.
he likes the tall girls, and patting their bellies.
and boy do i like ted angel.

listening to this album makes me wannna cry.
for some lost youth thing
or maybe i just wish i'd joined the beatnik termites
when i was 15, like they asked me to.

and moved on from there.

where're my spikes?

i sit and spit.

did i mention i like working 3 job's?
job 1 2 3 keep my toes working like clocktype.
it feels like classes even so that i wonder
where do i have to be? and will it be fun?

AIM is the bane of longevity.

and where did that dream really think i'd end up?
satissssfied?????
or just lost back on a wave of some
MSMS steps the 2nd week of school.
quoting bad movei lines
and losing my mouth to scarcity
and a dream 5 years later. (5 YEARS??? jesus)
or better yet, an examining table
as jordan reinschmidt renigs the 20 dollars
she was paid to go out with me
and transforms into something beautiful and tangible
making my life meaningful?
selfishful?
sleepy?

i have a concert t-shirt on.
a YL of mates of state.
they were very very good.
and i'm jealous of that much
loosely blown purpose.
why doesn't my Reverend scream at me?
and why is it sooooo pretty to look at?

i'm talking on IM.
calm down

we be's movin to austin TAYhasss now (come june).
and i think it's cool like luke.

gigantic, awesome college, here's we go.

in other news, anna left our abode.
and our redesigning of the pad is wicked bad.
expecially these empty cold ones lyin around.

and my stomach hated the
choc. milk/camel combo.

and i'm voting for Dean.
Dean Dean Dean.
Goon.

current movie to reccommend to show off my not-so-movie-eliteness:
The Man Who Fell to Earth, with mr. bowie

bills to pay sit close by.
electric goes off tomorro'.

empty hefeweizens.
goddamned advertising.

the plumbers fixed the tub.
that our upstairs neighbors apparently backed up.
we had to smell them
in all their bad forms.

lease extended for 3 months.

notobacco.org makes me healthier.
kind of. good techniques.
but he sounds republican.

friends are over.

jessica 'tis like me.
mac 'tis like morgan.
hence, we get along.

i no longer drive a gold car with stickers
on the back.

SILVER! 850 volvo. rule.
new stickers to come.

they are waking up anna.

i had a good new years.

thanks to matthew taylor brantley.

morg'ns parent unit (the female one) is approaching.

we have sparse gifts and lots of cheer.
no faces.
and nowhere
to eat for lunch.

and i have the most personal wonderful xmas
things to share with you the private public of
hearth:

the greatest yellow shirt every ironed on.
(made by my beautiful lifemate)
(YouthXL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

and bum bum...
THE FIRST RECORD
by the OFFS
FRAMED!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

why in the sticks is the first Offs record
any kind of interesting you ask?
well, it happens to have been illustrated by
one Jean-Michel Basquiat
and as the gay art dealers behind their imacs told us,
the only thing under 8,000 acquirable.
"i went back and someone had already bought it".
silly m.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i need a break.