I rarely post from there. And you think you have a kinda dark thing going on with humanity buttcha don’t know what it means bcuz buzzbutt you don’t know what anything means.

I just wing it.

I get a lot of rage from typically young, degree from Brown (we all know what that means), female (can I say female) interns with authority.

When I complain bitterly about book publishing, this is what I mean. How does this woman even get to live in Manhattan. She’s free. Daddycakes went to Brown, too.

I decided to heat things up a bit. I am abominable, and I can’t spell worth shit. And if I had walked into those plush publishing offices, and I had said – hey, over here, I’m autistic, and that mean a protected class, the fear and the loathing gets nudged up a little not unlike you’re on a skateboard. In San Franciso sliding downward on Jones just before you hit Sutter. It was kind of a secret space, 729, in the Dinosaur Daze, Divine was still alive. Divine in Chinatown. I was on Grant that night and I think I hopped on a cable car. I can’t remember really. I would never ride a cable car with a shirt on. The tourists turn to sweat. I don’t know how we ended up on Nob Hill. The top of the Mark for Scotch and mescaline.

I never kid.

I do not know how I have survived my life. It is a complete mystery to me as is anything that has anything to do with Other People. I do not get people at all. Whatsoever. I hide behind my cameras. You think I am looking at you. I am looking at your shoulder. I am looking at your tits and you will never know it. That is how I get around. I have never smoked a cigarette in my life. I will probably live to be eighteen.

That was the sixties. We rode shotgun on bikes. We left a thousand towns and we have not been back. We drink a rotgut they call the Johnny Depp, whiskey from the hills and gills. More proper than Jack Daniels. I would take off in the middle of the night all roads stopped in Dodge. No shit. They do. A cowboy will believe anything. You ever been to jail. No thank you. Wait a minte, are you for real. No, I’m just a voice in your head, you stupid fuck. A head connected to the other heads of heads – heads up – it’s the stupid fuck here he comes again. Dodge is one those apartment towns with roots and clowns it’s 1932. Don’t open that window. The sand, you idiot, the sand.