Buzzards are unable to love because they eat too many hearts of other animals, thus know the blackness that inevitably poisons even the most naive of animal kingdom's cupid-pecked fools. Actually, that's bullshit that I wrote because this is the internet and that's the type of place where you write bullshit, and then hopefully a bunch of dumbasses are like, "HA! This guy writes some really great bullshit!" And it all leads to absolutely nothing. I have become far too self-aware in this format, so am pulling back, though it might seem like the same amount as ever, but I'm working on other shit that will show up here as an offer. It is time to rekindle the magic, break the electronic umbilical cords into tiny little shards and make a mosaic of death images to share with my grandchildren, polyurethaned seven times over in the clear hydraulic blood of the machines that oversee my every action. Or something. Mostly I say that to be all cryptic and weird sounding, again for the "HA!" factor, but also because I am the white dork Ghostface Killah of the cybersphere, and am trying to push that into a different level of capitalist hell in the hopes my whore ass can afford some new fake titties.
STEAL "Lovesong Of The Buzzard"
NEXT MONTH: Fool music!
2 comments:
*sigh* You write some really great bullshit...
You'd look damn fine with some new titties.
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