Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Dear SadLuck,
Between you and me and Ms. Diary,
we're gonna get this thing whipped!
This is gonna be a helluva trip!
It'll be fun, it'll be risque, it'll make my day
and yours, too! As a matter of fact, it'll be bliss!
Let's take out an ad on craigslist.

You're speaking right to my heart
you and I seeing eye to eye
must be our Cancerain fineness
we'll start it up just likes
all those Joey Joes do
when they're buying up trucks
off of Craig's left and right
but we'll stick out buying us two
good looking guys
who'll sizzle and slick
our dream up
like Hollywood lookers
do every night.
We're so good for stage.

Give me a couple diamonds
we'll name em Doreen and the Dame.
That's just what they'll say
and we'll be flying.

Dear Diary
My final wishes pal
It was a such a beautiful day
I was going to ride my motorsigh
as
I Bent over to tie my shoes
a premonition of death come over me
on A beautiful day
but a day that was a little too warm for
a helmet and motorcycle jacket
so I was going to ride
like lady Godiva
in my Tee shirt and hair blowing in the breeze
"Ok" I thought ok,
I will wear my jacket and helmet
and leave a beautiful corpse.

I am going to ride again today
today even more beautiful than yesterday
it is ten degrees cooler.
I called out death again
and decided to wear clean underwear
it case my dear dead mother
is watching.
Cause she always told me to

Good bye Dear Diary
Some old farts take out an AARP insurance policies to cover their final expenses. I thought about buying a policy because it comes with a free gift. A free, "A Final Wishes Planner."

I suppose that is my metaphor for this secrete diary
it is my final wishes planner.
My 76 year old brother jumped out of an airplane last month. Because his granddaughter dared him to go sky diving with her.

I hardly miss not having a granddaughter
to dare me to do anything
All I can do is dare myself
an occupational hazard for
<center>
"when one has lived a long time alone." (Galway Kinnel)</center>


going to ride now
with the fear still with me
also is the poetry

Dear Diary

I feel so normal

I have adjusted to The Lonely Crowd.

Dear Diary

I have been having those weird sexual fantasies again
every time I think of the British Petroleum Corporation.

Dear Diary
I had another wild erotic dream about Queen Elizabeth II last night. In the dream I was crying about the oil spill when she came to me in my dream and asked me what could she do to make it up to me.

It is British Petroleum and she wanted to take responsibility for it.

Am I sick to even think such thoughts?

Dear Diary,

Feeling solo,
also helpless to anyone
besides myself.

Wish I had a VW bug
with the windows down
and spare parts for it
at every junkyard
I'd pass by
as a passer-byer.

Nothing erotic in two days
has crossed my mind
that I remember,
no dreams either.

It's a sad way
without em.

Dear Diary
I wish I had a hammer
and something to hammer
"I'd hammer in the morning
I'd hammer in the evening
I'd hammer out love"

Her Highness was very gracious
she asked if I wanted anything special
I said yes
Scuba suits.
It will be great
we made a date
to go diving in the Gulf of Mexico.

Dear Diary,

I got eaten up by mosquitos
because I'm so sweet.

There's nobody here,
the weather is clear,
and my two bare feet
are covered with
gardening mud.

Life is gud.

Might end up with West Nile Virus,
Yellow Fever, or Malaria.
But what do I care-ia?

Could be worse.
I could be in a hearse
and I'm not yet, see?

Still, I wonder if mosquitos
can carry HIV.

"To write a diary every day is like returning to one's own vomit." - J. Enoch Powell

Lucky mosquito.......

Dear Diary,

I'm not dead yet either,
doing fine like lady Doreen, too.

So I bought some salmon,
a couple lemons to squeeze
and I've fired up the grill.

You're invited!
Let's eat!

Death life rebirth...I tend to experience the whole gambit every other day or so...

Hello Dear Diary
"hello darkness my old friend"
Hello silicon based pal
Hello my secrete life on the screen

"To write a diary every day is like returning to one's own vomit." - J. Enoch Powell

Let's Eat!
like dogs returning to their vomit
(old testament somewhere, in the book of jackadiah I think)

yes my friend diaries are such weird chick things to me
but there it is
you are my dearest friend

and when I make two women feel bad on the same day
on one of those days when to be me
it feels like a schmuck
got hit by a truck



I retreat to my blue happiness