IMAGES / AUDIO
Twitter.
Formerly CAKEBEEF.
Then I was a caveman.
Then I built myself a metal bird.
I publish Rosario Dawson Loves Me and SMAYARTZAYALWTIGAIAIK, which you should read.
I write about music on the internet.
Currently located in Seattle, WA.
j.m.valmassoi@gmail.com
Theme by nostrich.
Video
I keep meaning to have a talk with Mother Nature. It will probably start out all nice and sweet, the two of us sitting on the deck with a bottle of chardonnay, laughing about Eastbound & Down or something, but by the third bottle of wine we’ll reach the point where I’m airing grievances and waving my hands around like a maniac.
“You couldn’t have made a penis look any stupider, Momma N, and you know it, but I will give you some credit for not making it look like some sort of fucking squid mouth like you did the damned vagina. What is this, a pinot grigio? It’s really good. Anyway, then you went and put all the seriously cool shit at the bottom of the motherfucking ocean but didn’t bother giving us any gills to get there. Oh, no. You left us up here with the harvestmen and the jungle ants and the goddamned earwigs. I mean, sure, we get azaleas and baby deer or whatever, but let’s talk. You make some creepy, freaky shit and set it loose all over the place and the only relief we get from insect terror or the texture of mushrooms is sticking our little zucchini thing into a squid beak or vice versa,” and Mother Nature will be like, “Vice versa doesn’t apply there,” and I will go, “Shit.”
Because wine creeps up on you, man. It’s a sneaky drunk.
Photo
“A cockroach can survive for up to seven days without its head before succumbing to starvation.”
