Heh. I have the pussiest neu keyboard ever. It bends when I hit a T,G,B and space bar. Not that I’m complaining exactly; it’s just that as I hooked up this new light duty peach of pie I threw out the old spacebar-less son of a brimstone and yep; you guessed it, my wireless mouse doohickey was attached to that fucher as it sailed into the trash.
Witness me with a flash light 30 min ago, peering down into the communal fuckin’ garb bin and I can just catch a glimpse of my brand of smokes peering up at me through the translucent film of a glad bag from the bottom of the stack of my neighbors shmeg.
I could get it, with effort and cunning, but I couldn’t invite that golldang 3/4 inch square of plastic back into the sanctum after it’s six hour banishment beyond. And I got strange ice cream on my wrist holding the lid open while I peered down into such a bouquet of modern cess so fuck it.
I will go wired into this good night
Let us see what enriching artistic feats of magic I can find for my dear sweet friends this night.
b.1882 Columbus, OH d.1925
I had seen Bellows work in the past and lo, from researching artists for this column I have a new appreciation for these compositions. For me they linger and they smolder.
I trust ye all are well. I have fully decompressed from my summer project and look forward to getting right with our B log.
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