Friday Love/Hate

I love the free form bullshit of my blog, because I can just up and decide, “Hey, I’ll do a Friday Love/Hate,” and even though I haven’t done one here for a long ass minute, there’s a history, and the cloud of tags becomes an even more clusterfucked labyrinth to get lost in. At one point, I was like everybody else who was like, “Hey, I can only use this blog for this one idea I have because that’s a great idea for a blog,” and you do it, and then you don’t do it, and then you get a different idea and have to start a different blog because it’s not the same parameters. Little by little, Rojonekku has become me cybertronically, with running themes and annoying habits and sometimes I say the same shit I done already said but other times I say something really great by complete accident because I am not a man but a mouthpiece for something from somewhere else. When I was four, I used to scribble words on the record sleeves laying around by the stereo, and I have some of those LPs now, and it looks like alien hieroglyphics making sense somewhere to someone and there was obvious purpose but I don’t know what it was and still don’t. Sometimes I feel like that’s how I still write. It is far better when I get in a zone of deliriums, aided sometimes by alcohol of pills or tinctures or baked pork chops, and the next day I realize there’s 10,000 words somewhere that I wrote and I don’t remember half of it. Responsible life has infringed upon me being able to do that as much as I’d like (all day every day), but I still remain a quality fuck-up while maintaining employment and keeping the lights on.

Haha, old confederatemack.com pictures too. I plugged in an old ass computer that had been hiding in the camper. I'm gonna throw up some old shit this weekend galore.
I hate smart phones. Goddamn electronic eartags for the cell phone towers of babel everywhere, that’s what they are. Let’s see how smart your smart phone is when we go walk these railroad tracks to where this underground tunnel through the mountain is, now abandoned and covered with hillbilly graffiti. Your phones won’t work down there, bro, and we’re gonna smoke dirtweed and get all purranoid as fuck and then I’m gonna take the flashlight and run into the dark and hide and you’re gonna have to find me. Hope that smart phone battery got power left bitch.