i want to be arthur rimbaud, drunk on the nectar of the wormwood and disgorging my mind's gullet all over pulp magazines available at newsstands everywhere. i want you to wear a little red and white striped apron over your nothing-else. i want to curl up inside a good book and feel the pages crushing me to sleep. i want to be fellated by a giant frog. what do you tell someone who has visions of swimming through people and breathing body heat. i want you to make up your own mind. seperate from the rest, that's where i like you the best.
IM: cue the danger
This week
quadrophenia. breathless. return to oz. wait until dark. belle du jour. coffee and cigarettes. barton fink. the chelsea girls. once upon a time in the west. cannibal holocaust. drop dead fred. knife in the water. el topo. phantom of paradise. trouble everyday. shivers. la dolce vita. rashoman. my life to live. cool hand luke. cinema paradiso. reflecting skin.
there's nothing worse than someone who mishandles silverware. i can't count the number of times i've seen a commercial on television where some seemingly innocent child is holding a spoon like it was a goddamn butcher knife, and then they twist their wrist around to shovel a great gob of some ridiculous puffed sugar concoction into their reeking gobs… fuck, i hate that.
notes from the underground.
that stray dog that hangs around the cactus taco stand.