COMING AT JESUS, BUMMING SMOKES IN PARADISE…BLACK HELICOPTERS&THRIFT STORE BETTIES AT DAWN…HOLY WAR IN THE LAND OF FIRE, IT’S THE END OF THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT AND I DON’T FEEL FINE…THE MAGGOT TURNS, GOVERNOR GREG ABBOTT IMMUNO-COMPROMISED & SPIRITUALLY CRIPPLED…FOREVER OR 8.5 TRILLION…THE PIGGY IS NOT FORGIVEN, SAINT MIKE NAILS KARL ROVE TO THE CROSS
“Social media is a contradiction in terms,” she said, blowing my mind with her cool blue tone.
“You’re interesting,” I tell her and cough. The afternoon sun was on me, I had 2 in the can and 1 up on Patreon. I had time. She didn’t but she humors me and I like to make her laugh.
“Is it so hard to imagine that creatives could make it on Patreon in the Final Century?”
“Nope,” she quipped. “And it suits your sensitivities.”
A way with words, this one. And everything else.
“True enough, peach. I just feel connected there, like a DJ, like A COLUMNIST.”
Yelling blew me out, I hacked in short sharp rasps. I told her to come over and hung up the phone. She didn’t so I got up. Closed the glass doors. Drank my water. Took my pills and headed down Castle Hill for a dark.
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Going for the Throat 