I saw this magazine in the trash can in the parking lot of a Mormon church I walk through on my way to school. It's Asian Girls, in case you can't tell. It promises "Down and Dirty Fun with Squeaky Clean Bath Buds." I'm sure it was research.
Who goes to magazines for porn? How does any porn magazine that's not Play Boy still do business? How does Play Boy still do business, for that matter? I guess people probably really are reading them for the articles now.
Asian Girls, the magazine. It looks somehow like something a guy would look at after coming home from seeing Rambo II for the sixteenth time.
Here are some perhaps more innocent pictures I've taken lately;
To-day I read "SEA-DRIFT", the new story in the new Sirenia Digest while I ate a bunch of cabbage I boiled for lunch. It was a nice, poetical representation of an anthropomorphised ocean and the effect of its aesthetic translated into physical terms. The story, not the cabbage.
Spring break starts to-day and I've already got all my homework done so I have time to read stuff for the first time in a while. Maybe now I can finally finish Moby Dick.
Twitter Sonnet #489
Old avocado rain blurs in the cloud.
Screens now unsaved by toasters lose their souls.
The pale Mac sleeps under gummy worm shroud.
My poor crystal Yorick drinks vodka skulls.
Evacuated tonsils smuggle teeth.
Cocaine sculptures erode with energy.
Trinomial triceps factor the beef.
Algebra biceps have no agency.
Laminated lamentations will last
Longer than wet paper satchel news grief.
Lego men remember modular past.
Bandages hold red copper on the reef.
Duplicate ham waits in the maple tree.
Weird eyes harshly mumble what ears can't see.
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