Thursday, August 7, 2008

He Ruffs in Colors

Jesse: Ugh. Hasn't this baby boomer set done enough damage by slackening the fabric of our society into some "do what you feel!" colored Lycra without continuing to shit on us with their watered down psychedelic legacy of ad nauseum nostalgia and reunion tours and crappy artwork spackled with this god-awful "wow man, I can feel the colors" aesthetic. Being part of the generation that thinks they invented sexuality and drug use is not enough for you to coast through life on a lingering fume of bad hair and good vibes. Grow up and paint something serious. Some realistically shaded fruit or two guys in well-cut suits admiring a fancy urn. Something your parents can appreciate so they can stop having to explain to their friends that you "were one of those hippies."

Lisa: I want to press my finger on his tongue, he seems like he would like that. I want to see how it feels. There's something strange about this dog, like maybe it's a different kind of dog dressed up in a costume, or even a person pretending to be a dog but he does not look like a normal regular dog. That's okay because I like him anyway, I think he's a very nice man.

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