It's Really Happening!

Damn, Boston is loud.  I'm in a fucking hotel and can hear the party-goers drunken shouts outside.  Why am I not with them?  Because I'm in isolation.

(Even though I cheated and went to the gym).

While in this city, I've been writing a book.  A biography, you might say.  Or, a bunch of random fucked up memories, stories, experiences, pictures, poetry, drawings, dreams, screams.  In general, is it about me and my life, written in the only way I know how - art.

I'm really not egotistical.  But, this book is already fucking awesome.

Wednesday Knowledge.

Steak and potato TV dinner's taste like chinese food.

Sexy Reaper

The She Reaper was a request ;)

What's next?  Well, in my Ambien trance, it turns out to be Princess Peach.  Just Princess Peach, you ask?  No.  Of course not!
Princess Peach sexed up and ready to take on / in some... plant monsters!  Oh no Peach!
But I assure you, she wants it - that dirty girl.

Anyway, I feel like I should talk about my situation.  You see, I had to leave college and go get a bone marrow transplant done.  I changed my mind.  I don't want to talk about it - it's all I fucking talk about these days.

I hate Boston.  My soul was left in Vermont before I left.  At the same time, I like it here.  Not in Boston, but here, right now.

I had an epiphany that fish can fly.  I was sitting in front of a tank for hours, and they can go every which way.  We're stuck to fucking ground.  Gravity and density can suck a plant monster.

I also had a dream that I drove a motorcycle across a field of pizza... it was very, very rough and I should not have lived through that experience.