"This is like that ecstacy you get that's like, cut with bleach powder."

Hello.

I've been home for a few days. As of right now, I'm hanging out in Krystle's living room. I'm going to be playing house with her for a week or so until we go to the beach. She's still working all this week, and I'm emphatically not, so it's my job to have dinner ready, I guess. I don't usually do so well with the planning and preparing and cooking end of things, so we'll see how that works out.

We're watching Logo music videos. There exists out there a song called 'Faggoty Attention', which I kind of hope is found by scientists thousands of years in the future as they dig through the remains of our civilization.

I swear I will write up something about Britain sometime. As for now, though, I'm just going to bask in the glow of Not Having to Do Anything, and laugh at the silly people on the TV.

And just to mention, I have never loved Alan Moore more than when I realized that he had done the impossible, and made me emotional and misty-eyed over talk of pornography and fantasy, one of those things that I suspect lies close to everybody's heart regardless of how few people even acknowledge its existance, much less stand up for it:

"Pornographies are the enchanted parklands where the most secret and vulnerable of all our many selves can safely play. They are the palaces of luxury that all the policies and armies of the outer world can never spoil, can never bring to rubble. They are our secret gardens where seductive paths of words and imagery lead us to the wet, blinding gateway of our pleasure, beyond which things may only be expressed in language that is beyond literature, beyond all words."

http://www.sextelevision.net/videoplayer/?segmentID=538&n=1

Timely, no?

Erin