this charming fan

i am listening to kill uncle, and it's glorious.


'tomorrow' might be the best last song of all time.


okay.. strike that.. i was listening to kill uncle, and it ended, and i decided to switch to videos, starting with 'hulmerist' because the 'november spawned a monster' video is so hot..... then i think i'll watch 'the importance of being morrissey'.. then maybe one of the bootleg smiths dvds i have.. and then maybe i'll listen to ringleader of the tormentors on vinyl.... then i'll listen to strangeways on vinyl.. no.. then i'll listen to all the smiths albums in order on vinyl... whilst lying on my stomach. on my bed, with my face buried in my morrissey pillow, picturing myself, in ten or twenty years' time, sitting on a couch.. (perhaps this very same couch)... chainsmoking... in a bathrobe and slippers..or maybe a gigantic caftan.. from k-mart... ... watching these same morrissey videos... eating betty crocker rainbow chip frosting out of the container (with my non-smoking hand).. and i'll obviously be surrounded by, like, eight(y) cats.. i'll let them lick frosting off of my fingers... then i'll lick the rest off myself.. and eventually i'll die... but nobody will even notice, because i'll probably have alienated myself from all of my friends and neighbors.. and i probably get my groceries delivered, but i probably make the delivery person stuff the bags through the cat door, so that i don't have to actually talk to him/her... and eventually, after my body has spent a good solid week or two decomposing on the couch, and the cats have devoured absolutely anything and everything they could find in the apartment that was even remotely edible, they'll gather round my rotting corpse and start eyeing it,albeit somewhat apprehensively... they'll exchange glances with each other, until eventually, one of them (probably morrissey) will move in a little closer.. sniff around my feet a little bit... lick a toe or two.. contemplate it for a moment.. look around at the rest of them... give an almost imperceptable little nod of his head... and suddenly they'll all pounce on my lifeless body and start gnawing away at it, devouring my flesh and muscles and tendons and fat and organs like a bunch of starving termites going at a 2 x 4, until all that's left on the couch is my skeleton, my muumuu (i assume they'd eat around the fabric), an overflowing ashtray, and an empty can of rainbow chip frosting.






... ooh, i love it when he drives the tractor !!!


i really don't want to die alone.


at lunch yesterday, matt said that he thinks i'm underrated.

i concurred.