Eczema.

Scattershot. If that's not a transformer it should be. I wouldn't know. Not the type for research, and missed Transformers somehow; I'm very good at TV, this is unusual.

Leads us to one inference. Transformers sucks in execution, but conceptually, exceptional. Perhaps it was only designed for those toys. A firetruck that turns into a Robot? Amazing. It puts out fires and is built our lord's image.

Religion. That's why I don't like Transformers. Admittedly, I put that there. Injected a hot shot of God into that cartoon. But like most things I make up, they're probably true.

It's like that mid 90's movie with that kid that got a drug problem or started proselytizing in his 20's, in the nowsies. You know, that one movie. That one that probably exists. Oh, I'm doing it again:
Being right without trying.

So, I've amassed quite the twitter following. And this is my real voice now, not the ravings of madman or madmin. I went to high school with Malcolm Madmin; Swell fellow, but unfortunately exceeding racist. Unprecedentedly racist. Racists looked at him and thought, "I don't know man, Santa's alright with me."

Below you'll find my slapshot to victory. My shots on goal that posted world wide have gained me acclaim. A place to rest my words when my mouth just can't be trusted. A sanctuary for the misguided thoughts of an eleven year old twenty-six year old. Read on and trust the stitchery of a noted seamer (the masculized form of seamstress).

I've made a mask out of the skin of our past, like the zeitgeist. Like I killed a bunch of zeitgeists and made a mask of out their skin, but it's a sort of ghost skin, so you can't tell I'm wearing it. It's not creepy. It's a metaphor. It's a creepy metaphor.

Twit:

they full of sour piss and ice cream and

impocompetance

i want you to know that i 've eaten all of the cheese that could be had at this of all hours.

Never begin an ending with Chet Pasternak.

one more year has passed like a turd from an ass.

The wires are visible even from 100 yards.

the science of Cerberus.

surf city.

I had one of those mid-winter bikini adventure dreams.

what do people do in offices all day long.

It's a phone brosanne, it's going to work.

Reason number a hindered why I hate naps!

I will eat your family and crap up your living room.

in hell it was acres of breasts and boobs of every sort as far as the eye could see; heaven, awash with the foreskins of young children.

love is for people who don't pay attention to the messes they make.

Poor child actors will be the death of me.

it's just me n the catslcoatl.

i hope about supermans.

I don't care when famous people die. It's like quoting. I hate quoting.

A question can be a statement if it's an insult.

And onward:

Our mediums have changed, and there's perhaps too much power given to paper. Perhaps too little. I've always thought that if you didn't want someone to destroy something you've created, you should build it so that they can't. Like, I could write my message on the moon, but I can't get a coherent message coalesced out of the coal. It's like were hunting for diamonds in a mine, and the mine collapses, and we survive just long enough to adapt due to radiation and a bunch of food and growth hormones in that food that nobody knew about, and so like six hours later we don't need to breathe oxygen.

Lucky us, our metaphor changes from luxury resource to adaptation. But a metaphor needs to have a point. One thing I'll never do is be the type of person who hides inside of anxiety in what I say and do.

Wring my hands. Shit, they dry as bone. I have eczema. But seriously, who doesn't these days.

-DMK