the other day I mentioned reading Yoko Ono poems, well there's a few I'd like to share. Her poems are incredibly literal, and pretty awesome. No witch there. Unless of course, to be literal and awesome means you're a witch.
Grapefruit was originally published in a limited edition of 500 copies by the Wunternaum Press in Tokyo in 1964. The 1970 edition contained material from the original, and pieces and drawings done in subsquent years by Yoko Ono.
I BROKE MY GOD DAMN CAMERA. FIRST MY PHONE, NOW MY CAMERA. WHY AM I BEGINNING TO HATE EVERY JANUARY? APPARENTLY, CHINESE NEW YEAR DOESN'T START TIL THE 25TH OF THIS MONTH, SO HOPEFULLY THE REAL 2009 WILL BE BETTER. GOD DAMN PISSED, SON OF A BITCH. I WANTED TO TAKE PICTURES AT THE RAYMOND PETTIBON TALK AT CCAC LAST NIGHT, BUT I COULDN'T. CAUSE I HAVE A PERMANENT LENS ERROR. GOD DAMN PISSED, SON OF A BITCH.
FLATLINERS IS FUCKING SICK. I'VE WATCHED IT THREE TIMES SINCE I BOUGHT IT ON SALE. THE PART WHERE JULIA ROBERTS MAKES AMENDS WITH HER DEAD FATHER IN THE CRACK DUNGEON BATHROOM SUDDENLY BECOMING WARMINGLY ILLUMINATED, MADE TEARS FALL FROM EYES. I'M KIND OF GLAD I DIDN'T EXPERIENCE MY 20'S IN THE 90'S, CAUSE IF I EVER THOUGHT WILLIAM BALDWIN WAS A HUNK I'D PUKE ON MYSELF. HE DOES THIS ANNOYING BAD BOY LIP CURL THAT PARALLELS THE FACIAL PEEVES OF KIERA KNIGHTLY. I SERIOUSLY HATE WATCHING MOVIES WHERE ACTORS BRING THEIR ANNOYING POUTS TO EVERY ROLE. KEVIN BACON, KIEFER SUTHERLAND, KEIFER SUTHERLAND JUST DOESN'T GIVE A FUCK. HE'LL FLATLINE FOR 12 MINUTES, I DON'T EVEN THINK CHUCK NORRIS COULD BEAT THAT.
I feel like we should have played. We basically just walked in and took every picture possible. It was fun to pretend this was our personal, ginormous, black lit basement filled with random sea oddities.
The weirdest fucking thing happened tonight.. it started out with my phone disappearing in the car. A few hours later I come back to look for it and can't find it, but hear it ringing and vibrating. Eventually, after ripping the car in half trying to locate it, I find it outside, perfectly nestled under the passenger side windshield wiper. The screen is broken and I can't see anything.
There are only a few plausiable explanations that could have led to this:
A) My phone fell out of my pocket and onto the street when leaving the car. Someone came by and stepped on it, or rolled their ghetto ass shopping cart over it ( I was in the Tenderloin) and decided to place it under the windshield wiper. They didn't take my phone because it sucks and is useless even when it's not broken.
B) A ghost purposely put it there to fuck with me.
C) In a wild, forgotten frenzy, I threw the phone at the windshield and a ghost later tucked it under the windshield wiper to fuck with me.