And with her whimsical imagination. Cheers to the queen of freaky delightful craziness!
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April 27, 2008
Yes she is authentically original. And I am honored to of had a moment in time with Erin.
And with her whimsical imagination. Cheers to the queen of freaky delightful craziness! March 6, 2008
I don know whatchuu be goin on about mos off the time girlfren but i just b ritein u a pome here is :
if you say cunt an you is white you be fit to share my pipe February 14, 2008
i pledge allegence!
joan o' ROKKZ!!! February 5, 2008
Praise to this juicy alien creature of sillyness! I love you. I love you. I love you. Oh my goodness, I just can't express it enough. You always have me rolling with laughter on the floor of my psyche. You truly brilliant E.T. from Venus (maybe Mars), If I could afford to (financially) support your entire existence, I would. Your presence on this planet is urgently needed in massive ways. I dream of having access to a megaphone that reaches the entire planet earth so I can bring you to it. You would make them snap out of it. (one of) Your #1 fan(s), G.F.
December 29, 2007
Awe such bliss to make love with our minds
thank you for an enchanting journey with you thank you for the future effects on humanity that have yet to unfold oh sister de' babylon
Dear Fellow Devolutionaries- Please send me a message if you’d like to sign the cunstitution in cyberspace, invent your own goobernatorial station and even a new fake committee if you are so inspired! And go stand up for the clowns at www.realitysandwich.com in an article called “Jest in Time.” Those new agers are slandering us anarch-angels like crazy!!!
Thu, February 21, 2008 - 5:01 PM
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GALACDICK CUNSTITUTION We, the shamanimals and anarch-angels of the United Emirates of Absurdity DooDoo Excitededly declare... read more
Today I took a Die-Methyl-Trip-to-Mars. I Died Many Times. I Didn’t Make Two+Two = Four but Implored Another Two to Realize 222, which means, I died enough times to become an Immortal. All these mini-deaths I’ve been having along the way have piled up into a magically delicious pile of my sub-selves’ skulls who all have rainbow gamma rays shooting out the holes in their heads.
Mon, January 21, 2008 - 8:19 PM
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The delinquentessential epiphone: The Meow Factor, a state of sensual comfort owing to Garden variety hedonism; th... read more
Looking for a 2012 Ride this weekend
( community » other ) Anyone going to the 2012 Conference in Hollywood this Saturday who could...
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listing posted Tue, February 26, 2008 - 3:38 AM
Westside Apartment Share
( housing » apartments ) Great apt share on west side. Share artist's loft
type residence w/ Bri... read more listing posted Thu, December 27, 2007 - 7:40 PM
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This page belongs to a certified black widow totem carrying woman. Men who want to hit on this creature are advised to think twice as she will bite your head off without two thoughts about it and make you sorry you were ever born with balls. If you appreciate her grotesque beauty and bravado, then great. She exists to bring more color into this monotonous humanoidanary world. She appreciates a tasteful compliment as much as the next bitch. If you think you have a flying chance in hell at a date with her, she is an extraterrestrial tantric Egyptian queen and has no time for commoners or their petty second chakra ploys. In fact, her body is only a grand illusion designed to draw your attention so you might pay heed to the idiot-savant beneath the surface. She is only interested in creative collaboration. Her message is what will remain immortal after the mortal snake skin of her aesthetic design has shriveled just like your ballsack. Consider yourself warned. Hit on this woman and die.
The fine falutin' flatulence that may render some numb drum art scum deaf blind and dumb makes me swagger and swoon to know who blew the top hat off the telepathic tumors and made me want one:
A Child is Born
Transwicked Frankenfurter from the 4th Dimension
Gender
Unknown
Location
about me
MY FAKE BIO- FOR REAL
I am a Jew drop of delight, the foresight of Nostrildumbass says tonight is the fright is the night the world implodes. And instead of watching the pseudo disaster on t.v., a million people in the future are staring into the tube between their third eye and their anus- looking inside for the answers, wishing for artistic intestines and seven severed headless messengers riding faster than the speed of fright to the no-think eye blink rink-a-tink toddler ville. I am the wonder wish know-how making waking dreams realities unto the verily profitable asundry blunder of doo doo magic while melting time. Let the world drink deeply of my cosmic frazzle berry juice. I am a star- a stewardess on the spaceship Nostromo carrying Russian space monkies and German iguanas through the chocolate worm donut hole of your subterfuging sub-personalities. My life is a chain of sphinchronicities bound by the laws of silly string theory. I am the conductor of a polyatomic paleosynchronic symphony with polyandroid theremin players and kazoo virtuosos fresh out of kindergarten. I am a psychic bitch slap, an insectoid road map, a car deal, a good meal, you’ll never find a better steal. As the spearhead of the fake revolution, I wish to put a giant hole in the mechanized mind-fuck of Western Civilization. I'm hoping the hole I leave will be filled with my ever-growing art army of evil bunnies, space vampires, cyborgs, zombie clowns, and gothic mermaid elvin kindergarten teachers. If the blue kazoo bamboozle babble trap is a trip you’d like to take, look for me in the intergalactic Teletubbie directory under “Log Iguanagator,” “Tarantula Disasterbator.” Then forget my number and just dial the ass-terick. (I am an asstroknot). It will take you directly to my fake manager who’s probably too busy being blown by his fake secretary to pick up the phone. Oh well. Better luck next time. ______________________________ “A good artist must also have a streak of insanity in him, if by insanity is meant an exaggerated inability to adapt. The individual who can adapt to this mad world of today is either a nobody or a sage. In the one case he is immune to art and in the other he is beyond it.” The Paintings of Henry Miller: Paint as You Like and Die Happy
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Word Freaks,
! SOuTHeRn CaLiFOrNIa DaNcE cOllEcTiVe,
! SOuTHeRn CaLiFOrNIa DaNcE pHoTOs,
! Vaudeville,
! contact juggling,
! jugglers,
! stiltdancers,
< Stilt Dancers L.A. >,
((dancing)),
(☯) Shared Surreality (☯),
* unrepentant melancholics *,
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