A Random Image
 

Jett Superior laid this on you on || October 15, 2001 || 9:45 pm

So Maxim sits behind me in our large studio/office making some of the most beautiful guitar music I’ve ever heard. It reaches down inside of me and makes me want to drive down long, winding roads, fat tears rolling silently down my face and plopping suicidal into my lap….

And I am as stuck as stuck gets. We’ve been attempting to float some new material for a couple of weeks now, but my end of the ship is sinking and I don’t even care anything about bailing water anymore. When it’s forced it’s all so much crap, anyway. I have a trip to Memphis planned for the week; I’m leaving out Wednesday night. Being part of the Delta always enriches me with words again. I think my muse (Delores?) likes the atmosphere there because we can draw on all of the ghosts and still leave something for others.

So anyway, my ma and I are gonna go take in an antique toy exhibit at the Pink Palace museum, and that’ll be really cool. Milton wants to take me and the threepack to the horse show, so I think we’ll partake in that. If there’s time, I’ll holler at Rob and Bri so we can swill beers and annoy fellow bar patrons….

And so, right now, instead of creating heady, insightful, jaw-dropping lyrics, I am cruising e-bay, hey-hey. So lemme ask you something: Am I the only idiot in the free world that views this nonsense as utterly retarded and mildly insensitive right about now?

“Hi, hijack some more airplanes, please, and allow ME to make it easier on you…gimme twenty-five bucks and take my old stewardess uniform!” For fuck’s sake. Everybody KNOWS that I am about as non-PeeCee as they come, but this one even chapped MY ass.

Long as we’re perusing e-bay crap, how d’ya like this particular bed? Because, after all, what says, “I AM THE GREATEST.” or screams “HEY, WHO’S THE CHAMP IN BED??!” more than a big fucking iron star atop your headboard?? Or how ’bout this one, which not only has THREE stars, but is PURPLE, as if to signify royalty (or “…yippee-ki-ay, stud!” with a lisp).

Alright, now, the guinea pig rapist?? Have I missed something here?

And who knew that people collected shit like this?? And the poor dinosaur…he must be rolling over in his tar pit; bet he never went out and copped a squat whilst thinking, “Hey, let’s make this one nice and flowery-looking, ‘cos it’s bound to be the keeper…” (to quote a wise man named Maxim Superior, “I wouldn’t feel too confident purchasing MY dinosaur poop on e-bay.”)

But I digress (or regress, whatever), because who couldn’t use a nice thermometer anchored in seaman?

Nobody worked it out »

Don´t be shy. Lay it on me.

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