descent of the italics, textual locusts

trying to file my taxes but impeded by sudden jolts bitterness, guttural frakking, at the witholdings from my stipend. it’s americorps for chrissakes, holden caulfield! it is a gross abomination of mind and spirit! i cannot fund my daily dalliances on tuppins-a-bag! did you know sacagawea resides in the upper east side? there is a corn husk barterer loose on the town! (me in duane reade: “can i swipe my corn husk?” “what?” “swipe my-” “ay fuck you ma’am!”). whole foods, “can i pay for this corn cob with corn husks?” cab driver, “42nd and madison please. cash or corn husk?” bachelorette party, “HEYYY husk papa!” oh, actually. ew.

so i’m off to http://www.bethlehem to be taxed and, lo! someone invited the feds (all wearing the shroud of turin) for dinner! and they’re trying to trim the fat off our main-course of grasshopper avec bones! well bon appetite assholes! I’ll just vote for santorum! (impetuous giggle, slight twitch, frown).

ugh just took a sip of my water and it’s brackish. 

secondly, last night my friend conceded her love of swarthy dark haired men, a congruously referring to her previous concession about her own swarthy, dark leg hair.

lastly, sitting on the dock of a bay is the most genius song. otis redding’s voice is god, but the lyrics, that’s some existential shit!! beautiful art doesn’t know if it’s happy or sad, light or dark, and it shouldn’t decide. I think it’s the musical incarnation of this good old h. wad’s words, oh jesus, I mean henry wadsworth longfellow (don’t let me do that again)…

“Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing, only a signal shown, and a distant voice in the darkness; So on the ocean of life, we pass and speak one another, only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.”


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