hey girl gimme back them stars cuz i got some f*ckin sailing to do!!!! ☆彡

p.s. did you know that i originally came from space, where for many millennia i sailed through the stars there, who next to dante the cat are my best friends? i have been around forever, and maybe even longer than that. i crash-landed my meteor-surfboard on earth one snowy day thirty years ago on the eastern coast of the united states of america . . . and it’s been a cart-wheeling freakshow of absolute terror ever since!! sometimes i think i gotta get back up there and be with my starfriends again, but probably i’ll stick around a little while longer. mmmhmmm ☆彡

y’all trying to buy these or what

please????

hey did you guys hear the one about the guy who was forced to leave korea after he made a deal with the devil

yeah, it’s a shame, because now he has no seoul

thank’s

IF YOU SEEN ALL I DONE
WHEN I’M ALONE
I DO THINGS NOBODY KNOWS
EVERY DROP OF SEX
AND EVERY LITTLE MESS I MADE
I WAS AROUND
I WAS AROUND
I WAS AROUND
I WAS ARROOUUNNNDDD
NOBODY KNOWS
NOBODY KNOWS!!!

HERE LIES
RYAN STARSAILOR
A TREMENDOUSLY
STUPID IDIOT!
1988–2019
☆彡
IT HURT!
BUT AT LEAST
HE NEVER SHILLED!!!

this is really good. my ex-girlfriend wrote it. i’m posting it here because it rules and i’m pretty sure she wouldn’t care because she knows i’ve already seen it anyway . . . though i reckon she won’t know for another 12–18 months that i posted it here!!!!

CMK, you’re cool. thanks for having the appropriate response to reading all this stupid trash

i used to have this little theme song that i would sing to my cat virgil, who was dante’s brother. i haven’t seen him in seven years this month. he was taken from me while i was out of town and i’ve never been allowed to see him again. anyway i was lying here in the dark and i realized i have forgotten virgil’s little song

good-bye virgil

Well: I’m having a “””party””” at my fortified compound on the Oakland-Berkeley border at the end of the month. In reality it is a mock-funeral for Kermit the Frog that we will approach with total sincerity. I have purchased a Kermit puppet, and Matt and I are building a Kermit-sized coffin from balsa wood. We will dress him in a little suit and put green felt over his eyes so it looks like he’s sleeping his forever sleep.

Kermit will be resting in his coffin at the front of the room. Next to him will be a pulpit made out of cardboard where a brief sermon will be held. Everyone is welcome to come up and say a few words about the deceased. On the TV will be a slideshow of Kermit’s life, probably stills from all the Muppets movies, while an instrumental of ‘Rainbow Connection’ plays in the background.

Maybe it goes without saying that everyone will be dressed in their finest funeral attire.

A wake will follow! There will be a bunch of food and shit. I’m going to fill our gigantic sink with ice and put a bunch of beer in there.

RIP Kermit!!!! We love you, dude.

Are you in THE BAY AREA? Come on by. For those of you I know already: you will receive a formal invitation in the mail in the next week or so. I got postcards made!

I’ve wanted to do this for like four years. Originally my idea was to build a human-sized coffin that everyone took turns lying in, and then we’d get up at the pulpit and say nice things about that person as if they were dead. But with Kermit we have delved into “””performance art””” territory . . . and I guess that’s cooler. Yeah.

Seeya there~~ ☆彡

. . . The young woman smiled dreamily as she went on about the storm, and he looked at her in amazement and something akin to shame: she had experienced something beautiful, and he had failed to experience it with her. The two ways in which their memories reacted to the evening storm sharply delimit love and nonlove.

By the word “nonlove” I do not wish to imply that he took a cynical attitude to the young woman, that, as present-day parlance has it, he looked upon her as a sex object; on the contrary, he was quite fond of her, valued her character and intelligence, and was willing to come to her aid if she ever needed him. He was not the one who behaved shamefully towards her; it was his memory, for it was his memory that, unbeknown to him, had excluded her from the sphere of love.