Member Since: 10/22/2006
Band Website: geocities.com/jym_indminor/home.html
Band Members: Jym Ponter - Vocals, Acoustic guitar, Arrogance
Influences: tacos, sarcasm, spontaneity, acoustics, conflagrations, self destruction, masturbation, cobblestones, wine with dinner, narrative discourse, film noir, alcohol, scrawl, decibels, wandering, arguments, scents, augmented fifths, barbed wire, the profound, perverted girls, swinging from door frames, word play, texture, biting, perception, early graves, random acts of conceit, pond wheat, destitute camaraderie, the absinthe ritual, flow, urgency, my porn jet, malleable forms, sordid propriety, dusk, manipulation, clove kintson, contradiction, the romanticism (if not the practicality) of quills, lilies, literary paris as an ideal, mad oblivious abandon, intelligence, sleaze, diatribe, derelict thought drawings, pisces moods, laudanum, the mythology of self, cast-iron railings, salacious haunts, the rumour mill, dusty shithole bookstores, composition, the inappropriate, vintage, caliguri, tea, rainfall (in gutters or otherwise), pornography, correcting misquotes, playing in traffic, marijuana, the dissident flare of a struck match, antacids, seduction, pianos, intoxication, sanguines, purples, incessant arousal, specifics, rants, vocabulary, eloquence, 4-track tape recorders, low budget, feral juxtaposition, listing shit.
Sounds Like: here i am in afternoon shape... shaved and hanging upside down from my garage roof.. thinkin of your retinue kaleidoscopes.. you and your toenails.. me and my gauze.checked out of hospital wing with tangerine and headache. given to me by splitting mad, froth spitting wannabe carefree gal upset at barbie, barbies tits and the poetry under my rabid arch.scene change and i fear i have left my wallet (don't have one) on a coffee machine somewhere. it makes me mad because my guitar lesson phone number is in there and i can't sing a note without money. i'm polishing my teeth still and hiding failures with carbon dioxide. one day i hope to be big and strong and not squish moths and adorn tv magazine covers but for now i'm happy that your glucose still makes me reek. and if i ever get out of this drainpipe i'll be sure to tuck you in my envelope world and then you can smash me up. i'm your television. your dirty unclenched hybrid fist... talking intermission-sex by the breezes as they storm by. plural sunset kissed me like a vision but i think i'm choking on a fishbone. my gullet spewed up the third ocean this mornin. i was crawling between the coathangers and skin. in the future they'll tell me i'll never be so dull. and the standstill makes me happy. maybe due to the facets of everyday hammock ideology but i can still sing your moist walkway and your feathered dust. call me gustav.. you can be my cold sore princess... i'll be in the squid squasher.. taking ink from the babies. i used to be a baby-- a hellish automobile crash baby with mouth roof and cavities and a dozen flies in my rattler. i kept my shit in prison and my piss in heaven. underlying animosity was drilled into my vacuous membrane and i turned words into heatlamps, called my food source out and they still put pepper on their fries in the ward where i sold skin-magazines...and it amuses me. the once-theorem that evil spirits could be released through a hole in the head, deftly drilled. why the fuck would they reside in grey diorama/bulk anyway? i think they crawl in through the minor chords and fasten their spider eggs to the chandelier pancreas... i'm standing up now, mama. i think the blood rush got me sick and the violinist in row six of the orchestra keeps killing my pets.all's nice here by crumbling wall. saw a few stigmata networks setting up their audio visual scarecrows by the road. i found an apple in the dirt and scribbled my eye on it. i don't starve quite so much any more and i'm willing to accept your all encompassings. i'll write you when i get back from visiting my abductor... she's a harlot with branches in her world and kitchen knives that cleanse the soul.love to the acid orgies.
Record Label: None. Apparently my personality is a saboteur.
Type of Label: None