handball court, community garden, poesy, a french bulldog named stella

Let's get out of here.

Sunday, December 04, 2011

I call it whatever I want to call it

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OK, let’s talk about cars. And while about them, let’s talk about how much, with deep and abiding fidelity, I love the Mercedes Benz W123...
Wednesday, November 30, 2011

No one will ever let you keep anything they know you have.

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Saturday, October 29, 2011

Justice is just a bedtime story

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It's embarrassing, mostly. Fifteen years ago if you told me I'd be living in an apartment above what to my pretty punk-seasoned ear ...
Thursday, September 29, 2011

Milk/Shop

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Friendos: You're going to be hearing more about my new project, Bone Church, soon. For now, know that its home is also the new home to ...
Wednesday, September 07, 2011

Ancient melodies of the future

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At first, getting old felt like the world knew you had a big dick (and go fuck yourself for wanting to call me on some Freudian chauvin...
Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Everything you say has water under it

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It's the first day of summer. I went running, it felt awful, and I wanted to walk the last mile. I hadn't eaten since early Sunday, ...
3 comments:
Wednesday, May 25, 2011

oddfellows

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You know, sometimes, and just a very rare, kind, sometimes, old life starts seeping in to the cloudy way life changes. Tonight I watched an...
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