Eli, Lily, I moved my deviantart account. Because um yeah I really honestly just couldn't bare this horrible account name any longer.

So now I am ROMANTHECANDLE.

[link]

YEAH AND STUFF.

...flickers upon the walls, making shadows dance and twist to a beat that mimics the flowing of the wind.

--

So yesterday, I went on a music rampage.

(In a Rolling Stones T-shirt.)

Bought two posters, a postcard, two CDs and a vinyl. Ill Lit and Lotus Isle were the CDs, I Need You and bandmates EP, respectively, and the record was a limited edition orange Modest Mouse 45-er. The Satellite Skin EP. Yeah, I think I'm special for that last find. Number 354 out of 4000. Eight dollars and fifty-four cents.

The posters were Nirvana and Jim Henson's Labyrinth. You know, the one with David Bowie in it. Yes...

The postcard is an adapted concert poster. A concert for the Jimi Hendrix Experience, actually. The one on 15.1.69.

And oh wow this sucks butt the Ill Lit CD is skipping like a high horse because my disk drive is whack.

Man. Far out. I love it when new CDs end up being crap.

...Anyway. Now all I need to do is get my record player fixed...

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

-- From Stop All the Clocks by W. H. Auden

--

Yesterday, there was a pig and it made me sick.

Sarah thought that was genius. Why? I have no idea. I was just talking about having to dissect the damn thing and realizing that formaldehyde doesn't go well with having eaten breakfast.

Hello, Sink. How've you been?

Lovely, thank you. Though the puke you're spilling isn't so wonderful.

--

Spare a vegetable; eat a hamburger!

WOW THIS WEATHER IS ABSURD.

I don't know, but living in Washington, one would assume that it would be cool during the summer.

(Stephanie Meyer lies, the whore; no, it doesn't rain here constantly. What a non-researching fucker.)

But oh, no. It's over 80. And me with no air conditioning. Hmm, I wonder why...

Maybe because heaters are a hell of a lot more practical here?

That might be it. Yup.

--

Frank Sinatra and Nat "King" Cole groove my lava lamp.

--

Oh wow! Where'd you get that cute little free buffalo?

[link]

LOOK AND BE AMAZED

My favourite response is:

Fuck, Joe! You filthy jackass! By giving "it" to your family and kissing your mother-in-law on the lips, you've doomed us all! JOE! FUCK!

Yumyumyum Swine Flu!

--

Let's learn to ballroom dance in the middle of Pioneer Square in Rolling Stones T-shirts and bell-bottom pants!

--

"I'd call him a sadistic, hippophilic necrophile, but that would be beating a dead horse." - Woody Allen

or...

"Not a shred of evidence exists in favor of the idea that life is serious." - Brendan Gill

and finally...

Danny: Hey, you and Karen have a nice weekend of domestic cozitude again?

Paul: Yeah, we had a nice dinner, went to a movie - space western.

Danny: (smirks) Sounds great.

--

And so says the Revolution, "Go, go unto me, my children of the future and the past and all other such tenses, create the chaos you were made to reek, push down fences, shove down walls, spike the President's tea with LACE, but for the love of The Flowers and The Trip and Abbie Hoffman, do not let the Man bring You down, for You are but the Man, and he is but You!!"

And the masses shouted, "We shall! We shall! We shall throw dollar bills upon the New York Stock Exchange and watch them scramble, We shall put daisies in the barrels of guns shoved in our faces, We shall grow our hair and dirty our faces and We shall Make Love and Make Peace and Make VW Buses, and We shall not give up!!"

In twenty years, the Revolution is but forgotten, except in the hearts of those few who had the misfortune of being born into the era of Straights and Yuppies and that Horrible Thing Called Society, who pick up the Revolution's Books, the Scripture, REVOLUTION FOR THE HELL OF IT!! and They shall be inspired!

So comes the time of change, blown upon the caterpillar's smoke, told to us by the dormouse (FEED YOUR HEAD; DO NOT HEED THE PROPAGANDA ((but what is the propaganda?))). Janis Joplin, save us all. Jimi Hendrix, deliver us from evil, Orange Bicycle and Elmer Gantry's Velvet Opera, give us our Daily Fix, for thou aren't quite gone, thou is just Blowin' In the Wind, and thou shall be revived in Short Time, and shall not Smite the Non-Believers, for They are Precious Too, and so shall Lucy say:

"PROPERTY IS THEFT
PROPERTY IS ROBBERY
(Choose one of the three -- choose the one that rhymes)
and; hey, I dig your shirt. It's pretty groovy."