…would now more accurately be described as having had a premonition of the world as it is today. Their oddity, if it was an abberation, was an abberation that stuck. What would have been seen as exhibitionism ten years ago is now considered normal sharing. Remember Madonna’s Sex book? Respectable coffee-table material now.
The Breakfast Rub
Natural Porn Drillers
Messame Skeet Consents: Swallow scat Turd
The Talented Mr. Dickley
Sticky Cristina Barcelona
The Old Man and Pus-sy
The Slutty Professor
Murder on the Whorient Express
Miracle on 34th Skeet
Men in Back
The Man Who Blew Too Much
The Last Picture Ho
La Pee en rose
Indiana Jones and the Ass Crusade
The Cunt for Red October
The Diary of Anne Skank
Head Blowit’s Society
The Cunstant Gardener
Slut About Bob
Alice Doesn’t Give Head Anymore
The Great Gassby
License to Drill
Service Her Majesty’s Secret
The Durt Locker
The Fist Elephant
The Pound of Music
The Tittle Mermaid
Two Thousand and Fun: A Face Odyssey *
Everyone Says I Love Poo
A Cockalypse Now
8 1/2 Inches
The Assidental Tourist
Raiders of the Lost Arse
* my favorite
Tuesday, I’m working on a book in which I would like to, with your permission, use a couple of the notes you wrote me in high school. Is this ok with you, if I give you credit and/or dedicate the book to you? Matthew
“Use how you like, seeing the notes you sent last time reminded me you might not have a copy of the poem you wrote me, it’s one of the few things i treasure from that time :)” (Tuesday)
—i’m a pretty good kidnapping target
—what are your qualifications?
—little, vagina included, lack of concern for my existence. basically.
Looking at a picture of me in the OE (in a purple zebra-stripe shirt with Zochae on the left), Dayton seems so different in retrospect. At the time, it was a place to me, a fine place; now it seems so provincial, so backward, so racist, so small. I think it has changed, I know I have changed. The times have changed and I have changed. Both are true.
Looking at a picture of Ashley, I am reminded of a more innocent time. That is the first girl I had sex with; I’ve come in her mouth a million times; we used to drive to and from Athens and Dayton together, talk about how someday we wanted to be actors and directors and move to LA. We were young and simple then. And a lot’s happened since then. Some of it is stuff that never goes back in the box. Some of it is impermanent; my person, at least, can again enjoy simple fun and simple times; my person, at least, can have wonderful, beautiful moments again.
Security officer in Tucson airport looks at my ID and boarding pass and says, how do you say your full name? I pronounce it. She says: “Your name is awesome.” “Thank you.” (I came up with it myself.)
Francesca…Jet’s sister…omg beautiful. Likes film (editing). I want to bed her, make babies. She’s delicate and wonderful to talk to, precise, sweet, intelligent, and exotically beautiful.
—i wish we had more time together last yr when you were in town.
—I wish we did too, that was hardly any time for us
—no it wasn’t
—I think of it often though
—good i am glad
—I was trying to hold onto as much input as I could while I saw you, so I could remember clearly :: it mostly worked
—did it what color were my panties?
—I don’t just mean about the sex part! what color were they…hmmm…don’t tell me….red?
—pink? black? they had a bow!!! I remember that!
—lol … what color were they?
—black with white polka dots that laces up the back… thong
—maybe you can show me again sometime. to jog my memory.