Roasted rats. … Roasted rivers of rainwater. … Well you can be assured my roasted duck delivers. … Dinnertime or any time, especially otters. … Fickle nickels and nandy-pants. … By my frock-fiend! My best fiend! … Good morrow … so propped up a face in the safety of the sink! … No, I am, yes, yes I am … I am a fish-monger’s seasoned second portion of salt. … I am the ugly duck … roasted on fire. … I’m that ugly. … No, you’re not … just average.
Don’t say that! I scream. … And then the justice is jealous! … Wise saws and sick sea-saws! … Glassy essence of Proud mortals … I choose to judge myself … I am ugly. … And thus an ugly duckling. … I’ve finally decided and determined and accepted and chosen and acknowledged. … No more running circles around the graces and patience of park benches, drugs, dreams, and drills. … That sort of mild magic. … We cannot all be masters of Beauty’s Bondage.
- Not that bad looking really. One ex-boyfriend remarked.
- Not a knock out, either. Another remarked as well.
- Nor sex appeal nor charm nor would make heads ramble nor tails turn nor unlooked for humor hags on all abominations. … Said the old, white-bearded Satan, Falstaff. He was fat. Merry. Old. Fat, old, merry. … No, I’m not like Falstaff, not old, not fat, sometimes merry.
Four boyfriends I’ve had … Falstaff not one of them … he was purely an Outsider Outside his Own Century. Seemed like a good guy. … I’m 28. … Lost my virginity when I was a terrible Tooth with fretted fire and 22 years old. Not as if after breaking up with one bark, another poor eyes, gained a fog of a travel diary boyfriend, I then jumped into Cupid’s bow-string and swam into another’s jowl.
I’m not tall, not short … well actually see him … I’m five feet six inches, right there. I’m not over-weight, not skinny. … One hundred and thirty three pounds. … Boobs not too big, not too small. … Hips not too wide, not too narrow. … Butt not too big … not too small. … When I have sex with a guy, I think I please him, but I don’t know.
I might be timid in bed, sometimes I think I’m not. … The life of an all-consuming attic can panic when in-jokes reach far-flying ballistic missiles. … Intelligent causes for self-perpetuating cramp diseases. Emulated emulsions are over after having been on trim trials. … Oh, the swearing as it can be asked, so then it can be ignored, and then listened to. … Olive eases into Christ-Fiction with loose drum and bass. … Heretics hallow out the why do you burn us over our doubt? … Over the doubt we see in your own eyes!
Ignat Frege of Wreck and Reference gets experimental on this side project, mashing up electronics, noise, and post-punk to wild effect. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 10, 2020
The luminous minimal synth duo's latest, due in February, is their most carefully constructed and emotionally resonant yet. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 31, 2018
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