Kenneth--Francisco Desires To Contact You Concerning the Frequency
Well, well, well. Thought I'd find you here.
So, Mr. Berry: although I can't remember the exact text of your last post, I just noticed I have a message from Lovilia--so I guess you're on break as of nooooow. Well, as you probably know, Mr. Wells will be here this weekend. So what this means is: you need to come here this weekend. Until Thursday all my affections are swallowed by my girlfriend, who is here for the old one year, good show, pip pip, and other stereotypical British phrases. After that, though--well, this whorehouse is open for business.
So about the music/writing thing--I've sort of jumped concubines mid-session, and am now on some completely other project, and can't remember exactly what I was thinking. I was planning on serializing an SF novel online, and maybe we could have downloadable tracks or something--but why not just link to whatever site you're hosting your music from? As you can see, my thoughts are scattered on this. But as to the spoken word, that is an excellent idea and merits further discussion.
Semi-related: the other day at work I had to battle an old electric typewriter and noticed how many excellent sounds it had, rhytms of keys and rollers and carriage returns, and was thinking it could be an interesting element in an electronic music piece. But who knows. Might go well in background with a spoken word piece...? Just an idea.
So enough of this Wes-lovery. I just read The Egyptologist which is excellent and funny and intricately constructed but also depressing as hell if you read it a certain way. Lots of faux...faux everything. Noticed that there are two classes of books that catch my attention: ones that are just good and fun, and ones that are disturbing and depressing but so well-made that I can't turn away. Cryptonomicon was the former, this last and House of Leaves examples of the latter.
My shower smells like a trombone. Really it smells like the storage case of any brass instrument. I have no idea why this is.
Remember ditto machines? Those made interesting things. Dittos? Is that what you call those? Thanks, Ghead, for the reminder of them.
So, Mr. Berry: although I can't remember the exact text of your last post, I just noticed I have a message from Lovilia--so I guess you're on break as of nooooow. Well, as you probably know, Mr. Wells will be here this weekend. So what this means is: you need to come here this weekend. Until Thursday all my affections are swallowed by my girlfriend, who is here for the old one year, good show, pip pip, and other stereotypical British phrases. After that, though--well, this whorehouse is open for business.
So about the music/writing thing--I've sort of jumped concubines mid-session, and am now on some completely other project, and can't remember exactly what I was thinking. I was planning on serializing an SF novel online, and maybe we could have downloadable tracks or something--but why not just link to whatever site you're hosting your music from? As you can see, my thoughts are scattered on this. But as to the spoken word, that is an excellent idea and merits further discussion.
Semi-related: the other day at work I had to battle an old electric typewriter and noticed how many excellent sounds it had, rhytms of keys and rollers and carriage returns, and was thinking it could be an interesting element in an electronic music piece. But who knows. Might go well in background with a spoken word piece...? Just an idea.
So enough of this Wes-lovery. I just read The Egyptologist which is excellent and funny and intricately constructed but also depressing as hell if you read it a certain way. Lots of faux...faux everything. Noticed that there are two classes of books that catch my attention: ones that are just good and fun, and ones that are disturbing and depressing but so well-made that I can't turn away. Cryptonomicon was the former, this last and House of Leaves examples of the latter.
My shower smells like a trombone. Really it smells like the storage case of any brass instrument. I have no idea why this is.
Remember ditto machines? Those made interesting things. Dittos? Is that what you call those? Thanks, Ghead, for the reminder of them.
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