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mordicai caeli

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October 21st, 2004

fashion plate. [Oct. 21st, 2004|10:26 am]
mordicai caeli
[Current Mood |what? your mom.]
[Current Music |crown me king- its all about to end (relax)]

i left from work (swooping like a hawk, or like batman!) to see the spectacular dj simon, the cosmicboy of legend, the marquis ravenface. you know how we do. it was a titanic clash! the dreadnaught named mordicai collides with destiny! though, to be QUITE honest, there was a distressing lack of goggles, though goggles were promised. the totem to lowly worm assuaged my rage considerable powerful, however. accompanying me was PETER THE GREAT, THE IRONMONGER BOY! his ferric, organic fists can crush grapes...grapes made of solid titanium! coming shortly thereafter, as though a criminal returning to the scene of a crime, was christopher "black rage" white, in all his savage fury! like a rudyard kipling mongoose he strikes, sure & quick! also, he is apparently good at darts. i blame it on his bajan roots- he knows how to play actual cricket, & so i think that carrys over to other games named cricket. but i'm...distressingly platonic that way. i mean....Platonic, right? though i guess i'm pretty platonic, what with my lover on the other coast of this continent. much later, much much later, when the clock struck the witching hour & the yankees had lost the pennant (hooray!) we were joined by the destructo-gremlin, that imp victoria! with her ability to commit one million diffrent varieties of arson, she is a fearsome opponent!

then on the way home, i called jenny to say hi, & she was pissed that i was calling her drunk! but i wasn't really all that drunk, anyhow. but anyhow, we made our way to the train, with a brief sojourn at amore's pizza, & then bam! we were off. peter & i lucked out- the d ran local when we got to brooklyn. it sounds sucky, i know, but not having to switch trains is always pleasent. & since i wasn't really drunk, i read. so good. i don't know, that was last night. tonight after work i'm supposed to meet up with the space pilot. she's in town for some art thing. so fuck- now i'm thrust into the place that jenny was in for most of our relationship: i am the new yorker who is forced to come up with cool new york things to do. um, don't you want to just go to seedy brooklyn bars? don't you just? i mean, thats what i mostly know! oh hell oh swell. i'm sure i'll come up with something. i'm naturally fun to be around, you see. just so.

ps. i hate washing silverware? so now all the dished are clean except for 23 spoons, 14 forks, 7 butter knives, a wooden spoon (or two) & a cocktail fork. i use the latter to peel the carapace from my prawns! my precious prawns. & then i "butterfly" them to remove their DISGUSTING fecal matter. fecal prawns! prawns for the maw! delightful. i buy my prawns from a shady fellow with a large moving van! he is "a criminal"....of the delicious! if this is sin, i don't care for virtue! oh my second-hand prawns, my vintage sea food! it is aged to perfection! perhaps tommorow i will splurge & buy seven or eight sea urchins! i don't mind if i do!
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Phone Post [Oct. 21st, 2004|11:35 am]
mordicai caeli
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