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6:38 pm | 28 January 2004 | collected works, vol. 2653

and now time for more attenuated entries

so i have been listening* to a lot of old Pulp again, lately, and it's really really really good (you can get "Countdown," an early album compilation, and avoid a lot of the crappy-crap that way). i feel an especial shiver of dread and apprehension with these lyrics:

you're just a little girl with blue eyes
everybody looks at you
well it's your day
and you're stepping from the black car
that you'll be getting back into
and on your way

little girl with blue eyes
there's a hole in your heart
and one between your legs
you'll never have to wonder which one he's going to fill
in spite of what he says
you'll never get away, hey
you'll give it up one day, come what may

dad's not got a shotgun but his look's enough to murder you
see what you've done?
and forget about the paintings cos you've gotta get the washing done
something's wrong, oh


facedown on the pavement, your clones round your little head
hit and run
and now our mother sits in silence in the darkness
she can't understand where you've gone

...all in a sort of mopey, loungey Bacharach-y moan. OH IT'S SO GOOD!

I have a tattoo on my back, spanning my hips, reading DULCIUS EX ASPERIS in a sort of sober uppercase (like Nauert, for fonts, but handwritten by my friend Shawn), and now i have a really bitchin' bruise that runs the width of it, about an inch thick, from a windowsill (don't ask). i am injured a lot from sheer clumsiness/mishap, but this is one of my more-favourite ones. fyi.

the problem i have with dating in general is i don't like datey activities. i like being at home and working on a painting while my sig. other works on his shit, or just listening to records or whatever. dates feel like interviews, and interviews feel like commercials, and commercials are fake. so there.

my new strategy at work is to simply yell "Pants!" I think it has the highest chance of being accurate across the board to any question posed, plus it's just funny. PANTS! clm.

*apropos of nothing, i initially typed this "leestening," leading me to believe that my left hand, at least, is mexican.

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