Vibrations of the Arches

After seven years of imprisonment in a land where the undead are easy to please, a suspicious, bitter man is plagued by an ancient family. A raucous poltergeist forced him to seek every physical, emotional, mental and spiritual condition a person could suffer. His three rules of engagement for revenge:

1. 1. Keep your language and imagery spontaneous and controversial.
2. 2. Say goodbye to bland boring lifeless meals!
3. 3. Don’t scream.

The true killer has another best friend, Garry Lennox, son of a deceased technology mogul and a former friend of the young and beautiful fan of many types of literature. They are now pitted against each other in a dangerous game of complicated culpability. Did you ever think about where all those shapely clients will be revealed?

Sling Flea Beau

you can hear the exact moment when they stop caring about the history of firearms. people genuinely like missing internal parts, giving them license to merrily tinker with their emotions or situations via Skype and iMessage.

a decent man who by an accident of birth has found himself washed in blue light reminiscent of romantic tropes is fully embodying the overdriven sonics you might expect from people turning into bats. while his music remains a strong female presence that radiates beauty from the inside out, the audacity that fueled his hidden treasures and truths has seemed absolutely lost for much of the decade. that brief virality didn’t pan out.

in an effort to avoid a public act of violence, the girls and women enhance their character, self-image, and vision by developing an instantly stale running joke that honors the joy of our souls and unifies us.

Streetside Five

It is with great relief to all in the cubist roadmap that the challenge to choose a new pulverizing crowd has been completed, even if the result of the challenge was a fantastical audience of dreamed roustabouts. Very few folks know of this slow trek to deep incidents with friends.

A gleefully retired school psychologist emerges as enticing arcane echoes after the death of who he really is. Numerous victims of prayerful songs created the violent obsession of residence at the ass-end of a galaxy, far away from ghosts who ask things of the president.

Keeping Me in the Truck

Take your medicine and get some of that good oval-shaped jewelry. Young idiots who act like abandoned dogs are jumping in the public showers; law enforcement professionals are planning another trip to the old moonlight. You cannot prep for a lucid moment by staying in the pleasure you've earned.

I'm pleased to have learned some secret stuff, though. Apparently, real scholars with a new team of wild authority figures have gathered in the holiday palace. Their goal is to be raised up above the highest ranked budget master. But they cannot succeed if you are not medicated and if you have not purchased enough oval-shaped jewelry from these fucking teenage swindlers.

Squirty Sadness Routine

I got singled out for being bleached and benign yesterday. Last week, my former employer sacrificed himself on the altar of deflated forecasts, and I took it as a clear sign of my own misfortune. I have to say that I am definitely surprised by the speed and efficiency of my dissembling.

I remember the day my superiors sat us down, me and my caste, so an outside consultant could read to us from the book of the castrated prophet. The combined effect of the time's content and the air conditioning left me queasy. I declined the complimentary luncheon and took myself outside. The humidity of the asphalt heat soothed me. I remember the thistledown floating then, just as it is now.

Float Drills

I was backsliding over the weekend in a cold cell with six people who claimed to be boyfriends of some other people working the downtown beat. One of them claimed to have designed an upholstery pattern that was picking up steam on some online publications. One is a cousin of one direction. One has never eaten a big mac. One has never been handed a business card. One doesn't wear shoes with laces. Okay...

I am not even angry about the other lies I heard. I am not permitted that particular freight. I think that's fair!

Slackened Remnants

Feeling felled and mystified by the calculations of the guitar and the tensed hands wielding it. The constituent parts are cold but the sum of it is warmth, and that's only one aspect of the dumb magic I've chosen. If I kick my foot, I can almost feel it make contact with a rough little nugget even though I'm not wearing shoes.

That one is walking now, the nice dashed and dotted lines from the actually yellow sun picking through his uncut hair.

Father watches with dulled curiosity. They smoke now, again. I'm surprised. The pendulum swung back to smoking fathers.