070505 OMSATIGO to that crappy dumb stupid head duck sauce covered eat my own shit for brains bookstore. FUCK it. 070605 Shakespeare glares at me guiltily, from across a gulf of inches. Between him and me lie the pipe, the smoke, the cup, and the one-eyed sad-handed squeezebox man, who hems and haws his thoughts away. Computers are still cool. Time to look at pr0n. And God I Love Women. And I Admit It: I’m An Addict. They’re just, well, they’re just better than TV. So slick and sinister and electromagnetic! Oh and did I mention, I love boys too? Oh, and: Just because she’s fat, doesn’t mean she’s not my dream girl. 072405 Sruky’s hair is all gray now. Still he thumps ’n bumps! Bump on! He comes over by me to get some napkins. “I’m melting, man!” he murmurs. Yeah, I think we all are. 072505 O, consign to anonymity all too-thin girls! Chaff, they! Filler! Noise hov’ring round the signal bee that fleshly honey drips withal! Here come a couple of fine ones now. So much more effective than the full-bared midriff, on a sticky evening like this, is the thinnest crescent shown, between the barely-big-enough shirt and the hip-hugging pants of svelte! uh. yeah. ok. omsatigo. wow. there’s three countem three macintosh laptops going in here (hifi) right now! Mine’s of course by far the eldest.