u r yr playlist

when they kick in yr front door

how u gonna come?

with yr hands on yr head

or the trigger of yr gun?


love the clash. love em. have since i was an infant. my parents might have been fucking to the clash.

splatter to pitter-patter

i've been a genre fuck

since before it even mattered...

yes i'm a Bad Guy, but only in the music videos in my mind.

in real life i am quiet and shy and stoned.

in real life i lack the constitution

i pay big money every week to go to a shrink

i want to find the key and turn the lock

i want to realize all my millions of ideas

i want to live without fear.

i want to live TRUE


(i do i do i do)



today begins the culmination of my SKULLFUCKBUSH project.

like most things i do it certainly had great potential

but like most things it's a path i've decided to walk alone

despite all the indications and flickerings of mass support

i refused to dot the i's and cross the t's

(the larry tees, that is)


and now here we are

two days before the event and i'm home alone

making t-shirts and fliers

for a party that may or may not happen

and i've had a couple of minor breakdowns

nothing dramatic i just sit and stare into space

and wonder what the fuck i have against bush anyway.

who gives a shit, he's just after the paper like the rest of us.

what more do i want in the world

now that i have my iPod?




Tower to the skies!

An Academy of lies!

And what goes up surely must come down

And we felt the mighty blow out

With the walls coming down...

(or something like that)




Hey, New York!

Remember the last time we were all on the streets together?


how have you been? i feel like we hardly talk anymore, wrapped up as we are in our selves. don't get me wrong i love being wrapped up. that's one of the reasons i live here: the exquisite joy of walking in a crowd and not knowing or being known by a single soul for blocks and blocks and blocks...the skyscrapers rise over our heads, the sun is reflected off the brilliant white sidewalks...it is a citywide, cinemascope.

the midtown lasers blind my eyes

the downtown cabs grind to a halt

the tompkins sq

bright lights of broadway

i'm on my way

with my black punk rock t

and my bad attitude

and my rights and convictions

i'm going to have lunch with jamie

and then i'm going to go run some errands

and then get arrested.






three is the magic #:



jamie

anti

raymi