|how's shootin' been, killer?
||[Dec. 9th, 2004|09:30 am]
|||||o this hand-me-down life.||]|
|||||sunday, monday, tsusday, efiday, cursday, briday, lupeday.||]|
spent my dream last night trying to explain to a japanese ghost what happened in world war two. suffice to say, my nihongo was not up to the task, especially considering that this ghost was from feudal japan. i guess also i maybe had a little too much pleasure in my eyes when i talked about hiroshima & nagasaki. boy i wish i could claim personal responsibility for that, for them. but alas, such a thing cannot be, can it, master cat? cest la vie. today i dwell in the fringes of the human experiance, in the land of nod, accompanied by the attendent details of human life, such as mucus. this is as close to a real boy as i get, you know. i can get more hind-brain, but when you start pulling on my medula you get bug-brain more than reptile-brain. snuggle me up in a geometrically perfect chamber & seal it up with wax. don't you fret; i'll secrete my own royal jelly. i'll secret my own poison jelly. its a shame boys aren't allowed to wear dresses, i want to wear a nice pair of striped tights & a cute skirt today! okay maybe thats not true entirely, but i do have stripes on the brain. zebras, beware, for i am a'prowl. careful you don't experiance thursday's wrath!