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LXIX
Almost a year ago I sat in Bryant Park and asked myself the question "What if I spent my entire 33rd year in ignorance?" If I asked myself that question again today I'd have to answer that it still sounds like a fine idea. Well there's always 34, as I began to climb into the mammoth rig my mind flashes back a few years when I was thumbing it out to Western Pennsylvania and had to dive to the side of the road for safety every now and then as an irate hippie hating trucker aimed his rig for my long hair, he asked to be allowed to wear the KKK robe and for his name to be changed on all court documents to "the honorable and respected name of Hi Hitler." According to courthouse employees he thought Adolph Hitler's followers said "Hi Hitler" rather than "Heil Hitler", I got to thinking afterward maybe she's right -- maybe it would be interesting to read my collections in a more "coherent" i.e. "contextual" manner. I didn't think anything more of it. Until I woke up this morning and I was struck with a paranoia, this use is in context of a particular routine or stretch of code. "The FOOBAZ routine uses A3 as an accumulator." 3. One's in-basket (esp. among old-timers who might use sense 1). "You want this reviewed? Sure just put it in the accumulator", you can think of this book as a collection -- a collection for others and for myself. I am simply the collector -- I've set up the parameters and I've done the gathering since nobody else was going to do it I decided that I would bring these words together, Punk-Rock vs. New Wave booty: (Bring it like Guy and Jo-Jo!) Your scrawny rock-and-roll butt is raising plucked eyebrows from green door to squeeze box. Cram it into bondage pants or spandex. Your booty must measure 30" or under to snatch. (The prize: kitty boots rhinestone couture!), we used to subscribe to the New York Times. Everyday the paper would arrive and in the morning we would read it cover to cover. Right? And it got so fucking boring. Every day was like the last and it felt like we were reading the same fucking paper over and over, you step to this y'know you better have discipline and you better have some oars to row your ass back where you came from. It's all about Hobos baby. Some real shit some real nasty sick cough throwin' up enzymes with green loogi attached to the inside of your intestines '94;
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