+10agen,-13?ish pinched in mongoloidian-limbed runner girl, ghetto corner feindish usa

happy to see ron who reports that last girl squatter tash is finally out (thank you mr. locksmith), mel called and said she’s in alaska, and he has cancer in the brain and lungs, rocket stage 4 with the afterburner of his declaring the snap crackle poppins a components of his treatment regimine. my sadfav linehis: “the radiation’s working; i haven’t had a headache for three days!”
i just one-clicked “Like a Rhinestone Cowboy” (souper duper Campbell’s Glen) [a persistent, long-time resident in the personal theme and kitsch apartment, The All-Time Champion King likely as not were Guiness inclined to certify it] and “Convoy” (C.W.McCall. towitTitTittyTatter; a fantasy then, in its heyday; i would have been a precocious long-haul trucker had Make A Wish taken notice of my to-the-point-of-pain yearn; and a phantasy again now;I’m still entralled, enchanted, and entropically entertained by that little fading dialog skit snippet that concludes the track in triumph and disipation like the children of israel) off iTunes for ninety-nine cents a piece, but now I’m listening to Lil’ Kim’s call for Brooklyners to raise their lighters up. Miss that missus.

Fucked work all up, couple minutes late, new lone student, charlie keeping tabs on my arrival, says he and trainee will observe, I’m slopawkward, super-sweaty and self-conscious in the supreme. “dont do this to me today” “yes” “no, my computer just crashed” (desperate variation, severe, on the technically honest “computer issues” excuse I’d mentally rehearsed on the way). embellish with lamentally exclaiming there went 8 monghts worth of writing. trying tosave and salvage now. he offers to take class, I clock right back out and dash. puff puffing the puffery here at my (of) latestation in a huff and a hurry before runnign back more sweaty, an unexpected custom er there for a make-up. sweat pours all thorugh that horu-and-a-half public speaking (hoary and horsing) event. charcommented even.

an tartar formation accelerated and pushed to the fore to present a united front by my dry, swollen, cracked, creased, parched, raw, sore and incessent tongue seems an almost overnight phenomenon, and the sensation, in full-circle fashion, keeps me (it) at it, wor
rying the ruffled dales of my back tooth line.

bitch fuck, ui’ve been known to say

oh, and the medicine’s stopped working, losing its potency to the super-class virus of my lie-fvibration

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