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Messages - Eater of Clowns

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The Richard Nixon school of ballet and the arts / Re: A new currency.
« on: July 10, 2014, 03:28:00 am »
In that horrid path of thought the images of GREs never taken and women never courted, jobs never applied for and the more that joined the list the heavier my hand grew, the more I cranked the gas on the little Honda, the faster I sped to Bogota. Kilometers died faster than the sun. I could not save the latter and so I killed the former.

In the outer barrios of the great city huge congregations of commuters waited for buses to bring them home. Behind them people cooked outside tiny spaces once as brightly colored as any Colombian building and now stained and, here or there, collapsed, hills of broken clay tile and cracked poured concrete forgotten backgrounds to families living their lives together in the mountains. And like the mountains themselves they blurred at the corners of my eyes and were gone and were remade ahead, copies of the same image to me, like the old Scooby Doo cartoons, cheap animated hallways looping past as the gang scrambled down. Maybe I would be able to pull off the Debt Collectorís mask and find some petty real estate scammer underneath.

Roads signs started popping up for the museums and I stopped. The traffic still did not move and in the cramped space I dragged my ride to a ninety degree angle and swerved into the little gaps between bumpers to the far side of the highway, and the exit.

I hoped the signs would still lead me to the Museo del Oro and I nearly prayed they would do so but after the Cathedral I could not know what to pray to for that short nightmarish moment where I was a god. I shuddered remembering the guardians again and I shuddered twice for the thought seed and then I banished the idea. I had the very real fear of the ride in me and could afford no room for the Veil.

The ramp was easier to maneuver on than the highway and I skirted to the left of traffic. I remembered Rodri again, back in Cali, our host cheerfully swerving around the mountain on the way up to the Cristo Rey, singing all the way and the motorcyclists fearfully edging around him. I put myself to spotting more Rodris and got ready to steer hard. There were none, and I threw myself in with the throngs of city bikers toward the museum.

My road ended with the sun still in the sky. I didnít stop to check the time and barely managed to turn off the engine and put up the kickstand. I ran.

Put a few hundred more words down for Necronomicoin, to get the flow back going again after close to a month lapse. It feels good. When I have something substantial I will post it.  :)

Fuck, man, that's a scary one.

The Richard Nixon school of ballet and the arts / Re: Spagbook
« on: July 04, 2014, 03:12:31 pm »


Johnny Cash's cover from American IV:  When the Man Cones Around

And his duet with Fiona Apple of Bridge Over Troubled Waters from the same album

Ready for this shit? Adele's cover of Love song by The Cure and the Fix You cover done by Young @ Heart, an acapella group of senior citizens.

The Richard Nixon school of ballet and the arts / Re: Spagbook
« on: July 04, 2014, 04:10:37 am »

The past fling I remember most fondly is the guy who taught me that laughing during sex can be a lot of fun.

However, I also learned with him that a case of the giggles on a steep roof is not always a good thing.  Also, shingles suck.

Whoa.  :lulz:

I just texted my friends in the Outer Banks:

"Yo I think I left my hurricane down there. Keep an eye out for me in case it turns up."


The Richard Nixon school of ballet and the arts / Re: My Girl Friday
« on: July 01, 2014, 07:30:46 pm »
Oh yeah, it's like a big pile of squirming reality that makes complete sense and shouldn't. Great work, Roger (and Lauren).  :)

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