Masculine Manlog pt. 1

I'm getting a lot of crushes.

Last night I watched the french film The King of Hearts. I fell in love with Coquelicot, played by the actress Genevieve Bujold. Having a crush is easier when the girl is whimsical fiction, not living just on the other side of town.

This weekend's other crush: the Baader Brains' LP

http://www.mediafire.com/?3hy7mkjhtmg

Yes I am 29

RUNDOWN:

Justin got me La Piovra's "Disastro Sonoro" 7 inch. I smashed his gokart into a wall.

My dad, with half his throat missing and breathing through a tracheotemy, tells me:

"You've been taking life too seriously for too long."

So, read that again, but imagine a robot talking with a mouthful of mud.

I love my family, not to slight any STL crew who read this(IMISSU), but they're the thing I miss the most about the fatherland. I was afraid I'd have to move back about a month ago, but that was just THE PANIC easing in. My dad is deep in the throws of chemo treatment now, my mom asked if I could get her a connection if the Marinol doesn't do the trick. That lady's gonna learn to simmer weed butter. What a country.

The job has been capital shitter this week. Every computer I touch turns to dust.

I'm sure the internet is wondering: the ladies? Sure, I'm known to charm. Bah, I am pleased being single, and they talk to me, and we make acquaintance, but for now I mostly keep my distance. There's fish to fry before I get all tangled up again.

Beasley's here now, shirtless and hairy on my couch each morning. He's taken to this town beautifully, most nights of the week I hardly see him. He's already got a job busting heads down at The Record Bar, and he may have landed a job as a tax man at the IRS. We ran around on election night and he's befriending every friendful face. I took him to The Ship last night, this vrrry nice speakeasy in the west bottoms, a fine imbibing.