DGDFG
Lingo Jammer
Rude Sky
Sorry Not Sorry for All Medical Mishaps (ad in·fi·ni·tum)
Images
Give a Dog a Bong
Itchy Brave E's Heart
Such as 'The Suck' (& Other Nominal Oddities)
Comma Comma
La La La Punk Rock La
Mascots Seen and/or Known by Less Than 100 People Total (The TRUE Gods)
Timid Em Dash
Parrot E's Song
Parody Song
Gone (Go Out in Style!)
Haters' Mega Negativity 1 plus 7 and 7 minus 3 does not equal the age of me But the numbers are there The numbers are there The numbers are there The numbers are always there
Google just send me this desktop notification that they stole a picture of a blueberry I posted on Slop Ç and made it b&w for no good reason (although it does look kinda dope).
some say it's jsut a blog some say it's the e-quivalent of a jack pollick painting (spaltters) but i'm not sure i think its something more than that combines
You Can't Just Do Anything And Call It Art... But... Maybe You Can?
––The Artist's Mantra
some say it's jsut a blog but beflore i was Born, I was an idea my being born was art and it flowed out into the world like water, just like blogging some say it's jsut a blog some say a lot and some say a little i'm not a poet and never once strived or claimed 2 be its' not my problen some say it's jsut a blog i don' t want slopC to bcome a rallying cry for the... you know whats its that was not my intentiojn some say it's jsut a blog and i;ll keep on creating it's the only thing i know i am good at even if thing i create, ARENT SO:)
• two fallen cones • something like a frog maybe? (grafiti) • a tooth • a one-eyed tiger (never mind the background, folks) • killer's eyes • snow ?! (wtf)
Constantly, an oldie but a goodie... Goodie, an olden butter constant... Oldie, but a good and constant?
I once was drafted for a war but the weather was so sleepy that all the worst art manufactured sprung up from the ground and spit on me until I was too wet to fight.
felt the presence of a bird as i created my outer shell, thought i should let the bird in but as the bird swooped toward me i could sense that it was evil, and my protective shell crushed it but it not in a violent way; it merely turned the bird into a hibiscus flower that immediately shriveled and died naturally
This is the first release from the big wet boy himself, an entity apart of the wretched reality. Many have forgotten it but I shan't, never have • never will :) 🔨
thi hardist part of book-writing in thi styli i am trying to divilop which to say isn't so much a styli as it is a mantra to follow is that -- will, limmi first ixplain thi mantra: it's pritty simply rially, i am basically just trying to writi iach sintinci as if thi only sintinci niidid for that sintinci to ixist was thi sintinci that pricidid it -- thi difficulty inhirint with this is that thi mind wants to bridgi a gap all thi way back to thi first sintinci and ivin to thi non-ixistint sintincis thi riadir (you) mirily think ixist on thi piriphirara hanging out thi sidis of thi story (haha as if that's what it is) liki many childrin limbs on an ovirstuffid bus on a dusty striit in a foriign country ... it's not a bad idia conciptually; it's not liki riplacing ivir littir "E" with an i -- what a horribli idia!!!
And here is the embed of the EP I played on my latest podcast episode as well as the promised (did I promise?) link to the EP's main page which is this this is the link (also: I think I screwed up in numbering this; it's EP #312 not 313 (i think!!!)