A homosexual, pulling bread out of the oven, wearing a t-shirt with "Hoin' Ain't Nothin' Nice" handwritten on it: " . . . but if you try to cut it with anything but a bread knife you'll shred it. Anyway. Gimme your bread knife."

Yrstruly: "I, uh, I guess we have one, let me look around for a sec - "

Homosexual [shrilly]: "GIVE ME THE BREAD KNIFE THAT I KNOW YOU MUST HAVE BECAUSE *PEOPLE HAVE BREAD KNIVES*."

Goodness, the date of that last post! The laxness appalls me, really it do, but this unemployment + certain personal upheavals're hitting me with a depression as asphyxiating as huffed cornstarch (my Palace* records haven't gotten so ceaseless a spinning in years), and no way am I turning this thing into a Journal.

*W.O.'s most-tattooable lyric, to my mind: "Go over yonder/catch you a look/at what made us get up/at what made us tremble and shook". Top-shelf Oldham eerieness.