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All up the seething beat of drums
Thoughts are music notes, this is the rhythm of synapses.
Apirl 6
Nero and I are going to hit the latest club over in North Little Lower Wereville, but we're waiting until tomorrow because it's raining tonight and I don't need to get up in a club that smells like wet dog. Instead I decided to introduce him around to a few people over at the Wryhouse Coffin Shop, although the person ahead of me in line asked for a frequent shoppers card and I can't be seen in an establishment that's sold out to the falsified corporate loyalty structure fostered by these consumerist cards. Coffee is its own reward, not this endless desire to get free cups, I wouldn't shop a place that feels the need to bribe its customers to stay. Melondry says there's a new place opened up on the south side of Hexen Park that only seats 7 monsters and the beans are single source, roasted by fire imps, that's where I'm headed next.

Melondry and her sister, Meandryandry, were both there and I need to stop by their screen print grotto to pick up some new t-shirts. I've started recycling my old shirts by having new prints made on top of the old ones, result in an Andy Were-hol type pop art fusion that mixes the surrealist images of urban culture with the counter-culture of art enclaves. I introduced Nero around he offered to help them load shirts when he found out how heavy their boxes of materials was. Perhaps I was wrong about him.

Anyway, Marko was there but we're not speaking ever since he dumped Tuesday because she's discovered she's a bi-monstered quarter-poly-corn. What a jerk.





Gryff N
Community Member
Gryff N
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