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...but there is genius in their hatred there is enough genius in their hatred to kill you to kill anybody not wanting solitude not understanding solitude they will attempt to destroy anything that differs from their own not being able to create art they will not understand art they will...

Thank you...

I don't know when I got my voice. Only recently, I suppose. And then, too, there are those who would claim I'm mute. I've written my whole life. Writing, and having a voice are really two different matters entirely. To the topic at hand, as a hobby I can tolerate it. Writing, I mean. Tell you...

No, roni. Not returning it would have been stupid. You done the right thing, bro.

Fifty bucks seems to be a bargain, anymore. Ejaculations for sale

I like to check my Bookmarks/Shortcuts every few years or so. Time makes fools of us all.

Holy Moley! I'm a genre!

Me? Twenty years old? Is that what you mean? Bwahahaha! Surely I've read this wrong.

Nick Drake

And the days run away like wild horses over the hills. Fare thee well, Lady Belles, fare thee well.

the way to whip life is to quietly frame the agony nice

Ahh. Nice. So. When was this? What year?

Yes. I left my heart in San Francisco, too. But it's not my favourite city. My favorite city isn't a city, but rather it's a place. It's: Route 66 ...because there is a desperation, desolation, and a loneliness, there which helps me feel at home. It's the best place I can think of...

The kids are alright. The kids are all right. But I never got into Elvis.

Actually EE - Extreme Elvis - as a phenomena is no longer active. Matt - Extreme Elvis - has lost the weight, and has moved onto other ventures which interest him. Matt is a brilliant guy, and I admire him. We had a chance to hang out together in Death Valley. It was a keen idea, really...

I think, my opinion, as a guy, not a moderator, or anyone associated with any particular branch of medicine, my opinion is that Bukowski was a Poet. I think that all of us are influenced by the things we've done, and the things we experience, and Bukowski certainly read those...

The picture with the dwarf was from a wedding I officiated at. Imagine the jumpsuit-wearing Elvis of 1976, perverted by celebrity and riddled with drug addition. Add an intelligent punk sensibility and a ragingly overactive Id, so much so that he's obese, often naked, filthy, pissing on...

The poems run away like wild corgi over the hills. I agree. It's a good one.

Intentional or not, it's a great observation.

The Ink Spots

Actually, yeah. Alas, Extreme Elvis is an icon from the past, and is no more...

Ahhh. The picture is a link which you may click, and leads to more pictures. What happened to your feet in KO CHANG ?

He seemed to enjoy it. As long as we are on the subject of drunk, naked performers... does anyone remember Extreme Elvis?

This may be a good start: Click Good call, cirerita !