meanwhile, inside my skull, small snapping wasps, mouth-parts clattering & stingers flexing. not even the kind of wasp you might admire as a marvel of jewels & poison & malice, but instead, the sort that swarm around rotting garbage bags, that buzz in the sweltering sun. in here, life is beautiful. even the orchastra. is beautiful. but last night was fun! i'm not entirely sure how much moderate drinking it counts as, but it was less than the usual fountain of crushed grapes, & i successfully prevented jenny from having any, so there is that. mostly the usual stuff: rob & bug was a clip-show, oh well; america's next top shaman was alright, but without anything as brilliant as heather; losts was good, though-- back on track, eh boys? thanks brian k. vaughn; & we peppered in arkham solitary & paradise hostel, the latter of which is terrible enough to be mesmerising & the former of which is kind of actually great. then i get up from the angry, thin-waisted & abdomen pulsing dreams this morning & well that brings us back to doe, a deer. tonight i think will be another sally-forth to the gym & then freya's day we'll go scope out the tenenbaum mansion. i don't normally like to talk about the future, but today is for jinx-breaking, the ifa oracle told me.