Alto...

I collect brilliant scraps of life
like you do tickets

I'll start writing my shit down when
you learn how to FUCKING drive

Truth...

Having a hole in your sock
sounds much better than
having a sock in your hole.

Christmas Craptacular...

Downloading songs for my work's iPod. I'm in hell. Bing Crosby helps, though. Sammy Davis Jr. does not. I want to shoot him in his glass eye.

Items I'm Watching...

I wish the rest of my life was as perfect as my eBay feedback score.

Fat Free Milk Friends...

Awww...man. I'm really touched but no, my house didn't burn down. I rent anyway. It's true that all of my crap is gone but that's only because my ex-girlfriend has it all.

Crap. I feel bad. I'm fine. Kind of. Same old me. Thanks, guys!

Oh, What A Tangled Web...

Fire's out but I can still smell the smoke. It permeates the air, my clothes will need to be washed and I'll need someone to look at these burns. My house is gone. Smoldering ruins. My pets are nowhere to be found. I'll miss them dearly. All of my possessions, the comic books, my passport, TV and computers are blackened husks. Not so important I guess, but all of that will be hard to replace.

Today's my first day of starting from scratch and so far...

This poem is all I own.

Robinson Crusoe Meets Jack The Ripper...

Haven't been writing on this old friend, here, Fat Free Milk, because of big life changes and a lack of a computer. Revisiting a lot of the ol' pen and paper Deus Ex Machina. Maybe I'll end up getting more done. We'll see...

Malaysian Emperor Cicadas...

Each bruise on my body tells a story.

I Am A tiny Man...

Very small.

"You Get So Alone at Times It Just Makes Sense"

Bukowski knew.

And I think that I'm just beginning to get it.