Interior teenager’s bedroom, action. Kid lying on bed, wondering which scene will end up on the cutting floor SHOT OF SCHOOL, dread and boredom SHOT OF THE CITY, excitement and creative whoredom PAN THROUGH CITY STREETS, kid wearing a shirt too big...
Look at all those monkeys Jumping in their cage. Why don’t they all go out to work And earn a decent wage? How can you say such silly things, And you a son of mine? Imagine monkeys travelling on The Morden-Edgware line! But what about the...
The art of losing isn’t hard to master; so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster. Lose something every day. Accept the fluster of lost door keys, the hour badly spent. The art of losing isn’t hard to...
Sometimes I pull back my foreskin just to feel something.
As if you had a choice…
Finding a new purpose is like peeing in the shower.
Quid faciat volt scire Lyris; quod sobria; fellat.
Translation (from Latin)
Lyris wants to know what she is doing; the same thing she does when sober; sucking dick.
When life gives you lemons, use the citrus as a fire hazard.
Life is a nuisance lived between naps.
“So Dylan, what team do you support?” “I support Ukraine.”