Red hair bristles glue and pointy fingers
Slices and herds the menagerie into her colorbox
Piñata of IV feeds full of rainbow gummi nightmares to echo your derma dreams

i can't wait til we screech around in a convertible in your dreams again!
BWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! nahnuhhhhhhhhhhhhh wahhhhhhhhhhhhhhEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Why, she's some kinda wacked-out knuckleheaded artist type. But she's one of the friendly ones. 'kinda easy on the eyes too.

we're going to the gun range and we're gonna shoot stuff.

So AXJ, I'll bet you think you're so cool with your... your TRIBE and... and your friends, and all your fancy Nancy LSD pictures of doll heads and crackers and oatmeal, and tits and bananas and creosote and mortars and pestils and redundancies and irreducible paroxisms without centrifuges uncontaminated by uranium 238, and there's no girraffes as they careen across the savannah at breakneck speed while above they appear as calm as an ocean wave, moving in the way that only giraffes can [as Don Johansen once said], without reservations you waltz into the finest restaurants when the band is paying a samba, refuse the menu, refuse to speak to anyone but the hostess, and ordering chilli-cheese dogs from the greasy joint down the street and making her go get them because the owner of the restaurant wants to get into your pants - but you wont let him, NO! Not even for three chilli-cheese dogs! You MONSTER! You insane epaulette mauler! You wont get away with this and I suppose you think that just because the smartest and the weirdest folks settle in your tribe that that makes you the shit. Well it won't last, Aye Ecks Babee Honee Sweetie Toots Jay. Someday, the drugs will wear off, your politician friends will fall out of favor with the ruling junta, their minions will scatter but not before plundering the cookie jar - your cookie jar honey, the one with the pygmy performing autofellatio rendered in mozaic on it - the girraffes will have dissappeared over the horizon and you, my friend, will be on a train, cookieless, holding a one-way ticket to Palookaville.

And you know where Palookaville is, darling. It's where I live, and I'll meet you at the station. Just be sure to call, and bring flowers.

i find it stupifying that i am constantly reminded of Spinal Tap by AXJ...



why? quite simple...









this one goes to 11...

NAM MYO HO RENGE KYO

She's a living doll.



With extra appendages and a funky car.

yay valentine!!!!

lovelovelovelovelove

I wish I could be AXJ's imaginary child.