October 8th, 2003

goblin sneak

within a <3 beat.

feeling washed away in bed- tireder than anything. i had to get out.
here is what happened yesterday. jenny gave me a blowjob on my way to take a shower. nine came over, because nineof26 is visiting the city of new york. where i live, with skull marbles & things the colour of amber & woad. we played trivial pursuit, which i lost to jenny with dignity. we played risk, which nine won with panache, crushing evil beneath his...uh, faggy elf shoes. then illscientist called us, & directed us to some poetry reading action going on in williamsburg.

poetry reading! in williamsburg! ruh-row shaggy! but there it was, & i said "sure i'll come." because i'm pretty hip to the illscientist- if he says the action will be good, then so it goes, pilgrim. also, i hadn't seen him in a while, & i tend to leap at chances to leave the apartment. on the subject of leaving the apartment, more later.

we put some of ill's jack into coke, & then we went into the poetry reading. here is my opinion on the performers, without any sort of context whatsoever. 1). i guess she was affiliated with "the lucky cat" in some way. she read from her novel, which consisted of bits of lesbian incest strung together. she wasn't my cut of tea, but i don't have any trash to talk about. there was some cybil moment with a coat hanger. yay. she used the word petal as an adjective. 2). i'm trying to remember how #2 was introduced. something like "a self-described transgender femmedyke radical activist" i recall. so uh, at this point, things look grim for our villian. she didn't even read poetry! she read a fuck-you list. like, a whole list that went "& fuck you fags who use the word 'trannie' & also fuck you trannie chasers who grab my ass then grab my dick & also fuck you lesbians who said i'm straight for liking girls & also..." ad fucking nauseum. literally ad nauseum. but more on that after these messages. she used the word petal as a noun. 3). was daphne gottleib, ill's pick, livejournal's own postmaudlin (also the name of her most recent book). she actually had style to her reading, which was nice, not...just the...shatnerpoetrystammer. & her poetry is really well put together conceptually. like, i really dug the one about bf skinner & the one about the ghost, & the one about the drug addicts eviction. she didn't have enough needlessly baroque & flowery prose for my taste, though thats you know, not her fault. she clearly is against that team.

the one thing that really wasn't cool re: my above hints. a couple times during the evening i had to go outside & sit on the curb. i would get dizzy & start overheating. i drank some jack in coke, & a scotch, so it wasn't like i was over-drinking. when i finally sat down it stopped happening. it wass just...i dunno, just that despite looking okay mostly, & having a warmongers gleam in my eye, my body is still in recovery. which sort of dishearted me.

anyhow, i also met a kid named jason, one of ill's friends from the fit. he lives right around here, in park slope. we didn't get a chance to hang out & talk all night so that we could exchange numbers & emails in a non-man crush way, but i did tell him i'd totally hang out with him. hopefully without sounding like a desperate, friendless dork. then:

m: take off your underpants.
jenny: what about you!
m: i need them.
jenny: for space missions?
m: yes.
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cigarette burns

pulled tooth.

i was thinking about it last night, & i realized that i am actually more than ten million times (10,000,000x) as likely to destroy the universe than most people. i mean, i've got lunatic ambition, i'm an exceptional individual, & most importantly i actually want to destroy the universe. i think the ratio would be higher, but who am i kidding? right now, dubbyah is a hell of alot more likely to destroy, for instance, the earth.

Mordi is the mouthpiece for planetary annihilation--the PR rep for vast and unmitigated holocaust, if you will. Periods long outlived their usefulness; Mordi's at a whole new level of Full- Stop: He ends his sentences with 20mm anti-material bullets that need a reverse-recoil dampening device so they won't blow off your shoulder when he talks past your head. If you're foolish enough to let your seceretary admit him into the office for a "discussion", store your paperclips inside the desk drawer before he enters--he can pull ninja stars right out of nothing, like raking hands across a frosty window and coming back with snowflakes under your nails, ready to sling. Speaking of slinging, his reload time on those revolvers is what S. King would call "magical". That means he'd burn his fingertips off before letting a temple full of striking cobras get the drop on him. Six plus six shells at a time, six plus six dead cobras. Do the math and you get the time it takes to reduce a Mecca to Set into a snake cemetary. Ok? -the lovely & talented primroseport

yesterday i read the witches by roald dahl for reasearch on my witch race. he did a nice job with his invention. as i've been thinking about my witches, i've started really liking the direction i think i'm going to take them in. as long as "neo-pagans" (read: fat chicks) don't notice! man, i hear that the neo-pagan illuminati controls the society for creative anacronism (sca)! anyhow, i'm slowly altering my elves, too. huh.

jodi, who is an actual, trained dance, said that i "move well" & thinks i know how to dance!
hahahahahahahahahaha oh man. i also read endless nights yesterday. A+
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