There's sweet tarts on my tape, tootsie rolls in space; I'm a daydreaming narcoleptic. These lollipops are homesick. My cotton candy hair has no breeze of relief. We're all a dying breed. Throw some shit around with me in the biting wind. We've all got so much of it. Hum rhymes while zombies drift underneath shrouds of an ever-growing crescendo of hulking clouds. Clouds take a dip down to mix in with a meringue that stirring itself in a windowless kitchen, right next to an awkwardly placed bathroom, where clarinet players like to practice the trumpet.

ya know what I mean, baby.. a to the b.c. ... J>K

and I told you I'd get the coffee when I was done cleaning the dawg.

but you didn't listen. you put a diaper in the time machine.

soiling a fancy piece of technology like that is so disrespectful.

I'll see you later tonight.

geeze louise.

Cupcakes & Sweet Tangerines

I remember reading a book about kangaroos when I was a child. It inspired me to reach new heights in hopping. Sometimes as an infant I would fly. No one believes me now because they weren't around to witness it. But it's true. I had a peculiar fascination with non-reality, just as a child would. And it sounds strange to you all, but everything smelled like cupcakes in those days, cupcakes and sweet tangerines.