chardy chardy chardypants.

“it’s not its fault–it’s an art film! it can’t help it.”

today i was late for work. life goes on. at least i’ve finally put all the pictures away so the basement is sorta clean again. i’d forgotten how scary i looked in 98 and 99. it’s really quite horrifying to see me in star wars shirts and a stupid with long hair on a horse. there’s one photo taken from the back that could be used in all those documentaries on the fattening of america. ever notice how they never show the person’s face? fat is an anonymous killer, you see.

it’s 2:02 am and i am laying on my basement floor listening to the postal service. a slideshow of my life flashes by on the tv screen. there’s no use fighting these exercises in pointlessness. we’re doomed to be irrelevant, so we might as well embrace it.

my friend steph might be living here again soon. this is a good thing. my total lack of artistic expression in the past few weeks is not so good. it’ll come in time if i put forth effort.

my role model and favorite author/poet-genius ever elliot harmon has asked me to create a poster for the omaha poetry slam national team like thing. i’m honored. it’ll be a bitchin’ project. i’ve just decided to unpack my adjectives. it’ll be gnarlyific.

the search cannot be stopped, but the parameters can be changed.

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