Worms in my bodie.

The tingles are back. This time as the electric tails of tape worms that have swum their way into my heart; yes that's right. It's that time of year again when love is contagious. Caught on the pollen in the air and swallowed up into your lungs all in the midst of an asthma attack. Or allergies if your not a nerd, dweb, twat, or shriveled potato man.

I found out a news article heading on the telephone. An announcement, followed by a less inflated story of teenage angst. My brother, the first man to explore the uterus of my mother, asked his woman-parts-provider for her hand in marriage.

Swell, huh? I'm excited...for the reception.

I like cake and I like celebratin'. I just hope that they decide to get a mime instead of a priest. I do like outlines of objects. Except if they are body shaped and in my apartment. There is a time, and a place, for everything. And then teen angst goes like this: girl smokes pot with germans, gets caught, gets isolated (not like gerauds), gets car taken away but does not get any of my jokes.

I tried to explain the toe revolution; the scars, the memories, and the soup cooked over an open fire.

Absofuckinlutely no response. I would have accepted a growling stomach as a sign of receipt. In fact, I should have heard her insides on the account of that mornings intestinal slurpies. One computer phone call and nothing changed. I suppose you don't expect it to, unless the tape worms are in your brain. In which case, you got the giggles...for life! but come December I'll try to use my body as it was designed-a smothering, steam rolling machine. It's too bad Kasha doesn't read this, she could try out some pre-emptive striking.

This is my blog. It doesn't sometimes make sense to you, but it really does because you can read and you'll change the meaning of my words to lube your brain up real good. Speaking of sense, my finding money on the ground rut is no more. I found eleven pence on the ground in two days. Inside. I think that's the key. I've got hobo competition outside, but inside I'm the only one scavenging.

I ain't go no shame and my fingers are fucking agile. Got nails for grip.