The stars they are aligning. And there's nothing more powerful than a bull brazenly beating down the doors to destiny, your chosen destiny, the one that makes you dream dreams the size of planetary moons and shoot the moon and go for broke and be, be, be, whatever you desire. And if you ever need help remembering where it was that you were headed when the billboards and flash ads and nightmare crap reality TV and slick magazines fulla other people's dreams scrambled your signal with all their bullshit rE-Ail-i-tee... Call me. I'll remind you. We're going to the top, Baby. Fasten your seatbelts. I'm drivin' this little piggie all the way home.
-Lord Duke RSM

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Narcoleptic November


Dia de Los Muertos

Crawfish, Suicide, Big Floods..

Indecisive in Denmark

No sympathy for
the invisibly ill

Pill hassles & pussy licks

Freedom: a tough gig

The Jodi Foster Fan Club

Ripping through the surf
with Jack Nicolson abandon

Corrients Peligrosas

I took the red pill

Bone thief on the bay

Poetry by Mike Loutzenhiser

Texas. Texas. Texas.

Typing while driving

Truth muffins & tears

The Marfa Mystery Lights

The Night Before Tryptophan



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