Wednesday, May 19, 2004
MY PAL
I’m sitting in my Hover-Round at the edge of the Grand Canyon watching the sunset and reflecting on how badly I have fucked up my life.
So I’d like to be Mike.
He’s everything I’m not. Even his name his spelled different.
And he’s still young enough to fuck up his life so it’s not hopeless.
He’s healthy, intelligent, and very good-looking.
I hate him.
Which just proves how wonderful he is.
His brain holds all sorts of arcane stuff from to pooter programming to Chaos Magick to Jean Genet. Of all the people I know and (I know almost everyone) Mike intrigues me, challenges me, and mocks me. He invigorates me.
He laughs at my jokes.
I highly recommend you try Mike out as a friend.
You won’t be disappointed unless he won’t fuck you.
I can tell Mike anything and he won’t call the cops.
So I’d like to be Mike.
He’s everything I’m not. Even his name his spelled different.
And he’s still young enough to fuck up his life so it’s not hopeless.
He’s healthy, intelligent, and very good-looking.
I hate him.
Which just proves how wonderful he is.
His brain holds all sorts of arcane stuff from to pooter programming to Chaos Magick to Jean Genet. Of all the people I know and (I know almost everyone) Mike intrigues me, challenges me, and mocks me. He invigorates me.
He laughs at my jokes.
I highly recommend you try Mike out as a friend.
You won’t be disappointed unless he won’t fuck you.
I can tell Mike anything and he won’t call the cops.
