Yes, the windows are open and the coffee is full and the stereo exudes Vert’s Nine Types of Ambiguity with an excitement that can only mean spring up and kicking … nevertheless, the world is coming to a point upon the tip of my busted lip. I don’t know what the hell I did– could’ve been the change of weather which brings dry lips which needs balm which I didn’t have which means I should’ve been drinking water and hydrating which I didn’t do which means I probably just kept licking and gnawing at an agitated area of lip which means waking up feeling as if there’s a cigarette filter inserted in your upper lip– or maybe I got some crazy mosquitos from Panama playing stowaway in my fricking lip and later today, when I gnaw at it one more time, it’ll open up and a shitswarm of toxic little ass fuckers’ll fly out and .…
Anyway, today’s the day that we finish the release of Renaldoh, March’s 3 inch (yeah, I know, but it’s been real hectic and busy around here, so fuck all). Very excited for Ryan Power’s May release. Hmmm…are we missing a month in there? Shit …
So the picture: not my tooth, but it is my hand. Poor little friend Autumn fell drunk and hit her mouth against a pool table and this is what we have to show for it (not to mention the ER doctor that now slinks around the bar we work at and keeps asking her out … fucking doctors).
So don’t stare at the sun, ok? But if you must, for Christsakes, keep your damned mouth closed.