Gibberings
Dad told me never to use XTREE when he wasn’t in the room.
August 19, 2008 ~ 10:23:00 PM * -07:00ST
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Log # 373
Got a voicemail from @JhnenVEE…
Got a voicemail from @JhnenVEE. Says he’s jumping or bleeding or eating or something? Hard to make out with all the road noise. Headed over.
by
on May 3rd, 2008 ~ 02:22:12 PM
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Log # 372
‘Pon the Road
I like the lone sunflowers on the median.They mark the step of some pied trucker, some Johnny Sunflowerseed, chomping and spitting robustly.
The milky muffle of the basin atmosphere fools me and for a moment, ravine walls peel away, and it looks like I’m going somewhere beautiful.
70 miles to Los Angeles, gentlemen. One hour to stow your valuables, strap up your smokesuits, prime your breathers, and smooth your cilia.
The milky muffle of the basin atmosphere fools me and for a moment, ravine walls peel away, and it looks like I’m going somewhere beautiful.
70 miles to Los Angeles, gentlemen. One hour to stow your valuables, strap up your smokesuits, prime your breathers, and smooth your cilia.
Should I really be texting on the freeway? No. Suggestions for Palm text-to-speech, anyone?
I am currently on this system’s desert world, as previously indicated, and burning through filter cartridges faster than is reasonable. Inside the bunker, machinations of the literal kind are afoot as I scramble to catch up with Etsy backlog. My printer took a huge shit, you see. And as usual, I am left holding the scoop.
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Eliza Gauger on May 2nd, 2008 ~ 06:56:24 PM
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Log # 371
@rikkisimons Whuhh???
@rikkisimons Whuhh???
by
on May 2nd, 2008 ~ 03:22:00 PM
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Log # 370
Nightlife
This is what I’m doing. These are my colors and forms. Rusted-out concrete
and green glass. My brain goes here when everything is quiet, or everything
is loud. I took a more illustrative photo of my current living conditions,
yes, but the quality and subtlety were both lacking, and this is prettier
anyway. Some sort of cookie factory, by the smell of it.
by
Eliza Gauger on May 2nd, 2008 ~ 01:45:56 AM
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Log # 368
2008-05-01 Coagulated Twittering
- You’d like to judge me for putting ranch on this hotdog. Or for writing this from a truckstop shitcan. But you cannot. I am on a Roadtrip. #
by
on May 1st, 2008 ~ 11:59:59 PM
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Log # 369
70/70
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70/70
The landscape is milk-tea. Roll down the window, tearing between the orange groves, and let in dust, perfume, and false memory. The way we should have lived, or the way we live on Demonia. Terran dust in my eyes, I swear. They woke up greener than was fair.
