losing my head

Hanging with the guys the other day. john finn, oscar towne, the vissermatron showed up briefly and went on electro-spark spit it outelectronics mode. then he took off. big green seth was defi in. Ace Dubet was there, and so was Frick. we were just hanging out. talking about things. this hill, that grease spot on the corner, off Ye Olde Dump Alley, and I think it was New Airfresh Way. Coulda been Frosco street ofr all inoo kneeo. Anyway big green has this icecube dispenser for green cigarettes. and one of those things melts in your mouth, and you are phazed. like really phazed. not just a couple of Space Box phazed. Not just 3gm of Agressitine phazed. like big, green goo is all over your mind and you can't remember what molecule of the tiny,lazer.mind.enchiladomeltdown you are.

i should just be sticking with the green cigarettes. But once a fool always a fool, as they say. right? no. once a fool, a fool for life? foolish. fool.

damn. i forgot. anyway, ice cube gets me MESSED. i was all mixed up. thoughts spinning in my head. very swiftly. like triple swiftly. i had to sit still in a chair and stare out the window while all the guys left to go outside and knock the roundo up an down in the park. i sat and stared at the city. i breathed deeply. i messed around on Finn's keymatron. slowly some semblance of sanity came crawling back.

Daveshead Day is coming up. Rarty Room in a panic. Darrel, the upper-level manager, is very excited. he sweats, boasts, and his chubstuff body squeaks and squeals under all of his tight movements. there's a alot of rat-crap in the basement. and i'm not talking fancy rat. i'm talking virile, violent and vicious rats. potentially glow rats. it's nasty. if i'm to be totally honest, i am to be totally honest.

in a face-down, i would destroy it. i would destroy it with might and fury if i had too. cause it's me. or the glow-rat.

been thinking about Newga. Maybe taking a class? cause you wanna know why? mad good-smelling nice hairs are in those classes. ah, fuck it. more trouble than it's worth.

ever heard of Smooth Freddy J? He was around during the Oil Wars. That's what Old Man O'Connor says. Anyway, Smoothe Freddy J was big, round, and had a voice like silk. but you could still heal a shredded heart bleed in it. sometimes it was chilling. so connected to the great, holy, holy, great.

gravity presses down on me. the week presses down on me. monday morning i feel it's big hand holding me with no difficulty. pressing me into my bed. and somehow my weary body lifts with great force. upward, attempting upright, but that's not always going so well on my end. will pushes me forward. build momentum, hop on my two-wheeler and head to CultureBurg, for another shift at the Rarty Room. All in the name of credits. and is the ride over there inspiring? yeah, sometimes.

album art

a new shipment

we got a new shipment of Mood-Enhancers at the Rarty Room today. man, they keep cranking them out. New mood-enhancer, after new mood-enhancer. Sometimes the same, old enhancer in a new package that gives you some kind of weird, tingly feeling in your cheeks. all the colors and scripts, and pictures. It's kind of dazzling in a way. it also makes me kind of nauseous in a way. i can't keep up. my head spins. should i take two grams of "Swissto Mountain Breeze" in NEW powder-lite cream?! That would really chill me out. Until my stomach started going "no way, man. you're not cramming this down here. you're not lining me with this chalky goo." and then i'd have to sip a quick "Supresso" so my insides don't explode out the other end. so I shoot a "Supresso", but then my breath stinks cause it's going back out the other end, so I pop some "Glowtine Nice Breath", and my head is spinning and my insides are spinning and my body is just trying to maintain amidst all the stress of city living.

Working at the Rarty Room. It's back-breaking, head-cracking, nuts.

flier for our play in Feb

It's been a while since we've written on the blog. Only due to the fact that we're going full force on putting up this play. It's been a blast so far. Very fun to work on. There are endless amounts of things that can be done and creation can go on forever. It's quite incredible. We've made alot of strange things.

Anyhow, the play is February. Please join us. We think it will be a hell of an experience.

bad scent

tey==

they're selling a new cologne at the Rarty Room. It's called "Man's Muskination". It's the type of stuff a dude puts on and smells like cross between a horse and chocolate and sex-testicle stuff. It's supposed to make women go fucking nuts. Pheromones and all that terrible business. So my manager Peter Arpentar is constantly dowsing himself in. It's making me go crazy. Like, in a really bad way. I can't handle it. A strong odor can be a horrific thing for your life. I don't know what to do. I need the credits. I do. So I'm bearing it right now. But how long can a man's nose and sanity handle something so bad?

Fckc.

Cyfu.

Fuck.

real people saying real things

i stared at a telebox tonight. for 5.35 hours. i watched real people do real things in a real city. New Hope City. there's a program called "The Strip". It's all about young, waxy, credit-filled New Hope City folks driving from one restaurant to another bar-lodge, in their Triple-GaspPowEr Neutron Rollers. all leather lined, and greased down. Tight outfits, and three-hour powered hair. and no one says anything real. not the real people in their real clothes(good for purchase at Waldino Salons all around New Hope City) doing real things.

the dudes looked crankked out on Szam!powder. the chicks are all crankking Social Star.

Damn. What is so fascinating about folly?

Savior's Day

Savior's Day is coming up in New Hope City. Banners of Daveshead will be blowing all over the place. Huge party weekend. I'm stuck at the Rarty Room, recommending mood-enhancers to young mothers with 15,000Credit strollers, and their douchebag, young-E*ec husbands. Whole families trolling around in massive zippy-mobiles, sucking on fuDgeCREAmHOtsTocks. Buying SunshineLolliGaggers, jamming them down their screaming kids' throats so the kids fade into happy/docile bunny mode. Fuck. I'd rather be spinning some old wax spinners that John Finn and I found on the edge of the Wasteland. Light up a green cig and just chill the fuck out outside of Old Man O'Connor's noodle stand. But a man's gotta eat, right? So a man's gotta hustle and work.

Folks are abundantly crackooed-out in this city.

Lucas Renard out.