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Messages - Pope Pixie Pickle

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Wrong European, EoC.

I can't even speak belgian

i also marked all messages read.


also- good to see you Alty!

i even switched the forum theme to attempt to see better where it might've gone! :belgian:


Well don't i look fucking daft?

:makes a general wave of hellos:

is the name change function switched off?

Techmology and Scientism / Re: Body Talk
« on: January 18, 2014, 09:53:33 pm »
thanks to this post I'm totally considering getting my Mum a massage treatment for her birthday.  :)

The Richard Nixon school of ballet and the arts / Re: Spagbook
« on: January 17, 2014, 02:41:39 pm »

Science! Nigel is also pretty damned  hawt.

The Richard Nixon school of ballet and the arts / Re: Spagbook
« on: January 17, 2014, 02:31:46 pm »
Alright, you bastages

(the one with the gloves)

Wow. Quite honestly, I never thought I would see this day.

late to the party, but i'd awkwardly hit on QG

keep the guitar for a few tracks at least.


maybe switch it up during the set? so there's a range of accompaniments?

like you are the tortilla chips and the accordion fiddle folks are dips?

guitar fiddle vocals.

keep it simple yo.

I'm getting caffeine twitches from the masala chai i had an hour or so ago.


You're talking to someone here, Suu, who will happily take coffee in volumes from a heaped teaspoon to multiple tablespoons to "only 3% water".  And that's the nasty instant stuff.  It's the only way I can get a buzz off it.

You'd love what I just made then. French press and everything. I knew it was a bit much, but I went with it and now my intestines are revolting.

Have you ever heard the tale of Richter's Espresso Machine when we both worked in Boston?

He would put 3x the amount of espresso roast into a machine that would give you about the amount of coffee to fill a large mug. There were two people in the office that could handle it, him, and Fabulously Gay Nate, who's previous gig was a bike messenger, and also the front of a synthpop band.

This shit notoriously sent me on a vision quest across Boston Common one lunch hour during which I preached THE WORD to a congregation of bums near the Park St. subway stop. I returned back to my desk and had a caffeine crash. My supervisor came over to check on me, as my head was down on the desk and groaning. Knowing exactly what to do, he picked up my phone, and dialed Richter. Who, within a few minutes, appeared at my desk with a fresh pot of rocket fuel he heated my mug with.

That was the day I saw Eris. Though it may have been Mayor Menino in drag. I haven't figure it out yet.


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