Current Life Summary

Sometimes my dear people will write me or leave me conspicuous voice messages asking questions about my life or what i'm wearing. Sometimes these brain wobblers ask how it is to be in Sarasota. I rarely return these questions because I am too busy being excellent, and often can't find the time to waste on other's bullshit. But, because my parents think i might be dead and my brother wants to know how much longer he'll have to be feeding my cat goldfish i will give you an update. Instead of writing anything original i'll just copy and paste a letter I wrote to one of my real friends. My little brother, Brian. He may be offended that i would repost something that was private between us, but i don't have time to write something new, or time for his feelings. Besides, he is dead to me.

Dear Brian,
My phone is gone. it rolled away in a strange car, or fell into a gutter hole. Maybe it just splashed on the sidewalk and a mormon bear carried it off to jewville. I'm not sure. All i know is i went to buy a charger for my second rate phone today so I could talk to my priest and a scraggly bat sold me one for ten dollars in a store that smelled like a porn closet. I made him test it, cause i was clever and sheen. I paid the cardinal fool and drank a meatball sub on my way home.

At my home where i'm resting between actions and cuts i plugged in my new battery juicer. It doesn't work. It doesn't charge. It just turns your phone on. That scraggly bat was a rat dealer. A man with confusers fingers.

After i talked to you on the phone i got the flu. I woke up in the morning and wished I had been born an ice cube, and could melt into some lemonade or on a car hood. The thing about working a 9-5er is, you can't take the day off just because your brain is teasing witch diseases and asking for a smack house. I was drinking dayquill and korean blood mixers. I put white chalk homeopathic magic under my tongue and prayed in mathematics. This morning i was a little better, but i still missed my phone, and wanted a new one. Something with two cameras or a cross bow.

When I get back to Las Vegas i'll be ready to smear my face in the sand pits along the moat village. I'll hug and jangle everybody until their insides feel hairy and peculiar. I'll put my mouth on peoples mouths and celebrate over pizza and alcoholic water drinks. It's good that you're fit and shading--that you're a muslim christian. I'm glad you're really really good and expect you to be finer still when i come back west. I imagine we'll all have mustaches when the days turn around again. Keep on your way. Climbing the harder hills. I'll be back by October.

Love and madness,
J.T.

Might not help you understand anything at all really, but it should. you know it's hard to explain your life when it looks like this: