conversations with my mentors and students of fans and fans of students
Don Drewniak; Don Be; @juan pablo martinez; Michaël Wertenberg; Flavio Musa de Freitas Guimarães; @ted gianoles; Genius Turner; BichoDoMato; Amy Sea; RN Mindshifts; Kristine Laco; Smillew Rahcuef; E.D. Martin; Martin French; Nathaniel Killgore . . .
don drewniak (aka, don juan): The only pictures I have of girls I dated in high school would be in my high school yearbook that is locked in a storage unit back in the States.
ann james (aka, ana domingo): back in the states? so where are you? in witness protection en acapulco?
don: The high hills (2760 feet in elevation) in the Central Valley of Costa Rica.
ann: ¿vacaciones? winter home? high hills, costa rica - 2760' jajajaja. i will see your high hills and raise you my high desert hills. 5260' where steve picked up paco after he crashed his boss’ (with apologies to daniel lind: i will never again make a viking the bad guy in my stories. it’ll be some other white guy) cessna in the reservoir.
{excerpt from “rain forest jim” available only from the author}
. . . He reached the pick-up point and hid in the shadows, thirsty and shaken. Pulling the duffel bags from his cramped shoulders, he found the graphite arrow, stuck in the head of the eagle on la Bandera de Mexico decal. He tore it out. A dusting of white powder made its way out of the hole. With a trembling hand, he pulled a stick of gum out of its wrapper, chewed it and flattened it out across the hole. He heard a truck coming up the dirt road above him, and snatched the duffel bags. Climbing the last hundred yards of rocks and brush, looking into the glaring battle-born blue sky, Paco was nearly knocked from the dirt road as Steve hit the brakes on Björn’s pick up. As soon as he closed the cab door, Steve drove swiftly down the rutted dirt road.
LECCIONES DE ESPAñOL
entiendo poquito. leando ahora “will”. señore sounds like hector alterio en “caballos salvajes.”
caballos: horses; cabellos: hair; cebollas: onions; cabello blanco: white hair:
una caballo blanco hecho sopa de sapos con cebollas. mi amiga de colombia no le gusta cebollas. mi pelo no es cabello blanco señor Alan Asnen. hay muchos caballos en los montañas cerca de mi casa es su casa. Smillew Rahcuef has already booked the guest room. lo siento.
un mensaje privado por Señor asnen. only eight more followers til you have 1,000. remind Martin French to send you a car of your choice from https://www.instagram.com/holawalterlee/ as soon as they are refitted with electric motors. just don’t hire Smillew Rahcuef (miles chauffer) for your driver.
(this is why i prefer locarno to zurich;)
tags: political satire, i didn’t just type that, did i? bull pies, californication, many mini manifestos
on a walk about in north carson city: wards are gerrymandered, and it doesn’t really matter whose ward this is, cuz it’s happening ever’where. above the sierras in the background is cal-i-for-ni-a, the state that looks like it’s butt-f*cking nevada, and impaling oregon on a stick in the desert.
“The Pretender” by Jackson Brown
achoo, red queen . . .
i stayed at home during the board of supervisors meeting on thursday evening. i could not stand to see children (the 4H’ers) being used by the ranchers from california to promote their cause : a slaughterhouse in city limits near low-income homes, the carson river, on wetlands . . .
i read essays by Genius Turner, wrote a love letter to Don Drewniak, and played tag with on-line friends.
so, the meeting:
3 against carson valley meats/sinclair ranch : stan jones, giomi stacey, lisa shutte,
1 in favor of the proposed slaughterhouse on a vacant lot in ward 2: mo white, mo white, ward 2.
also in favor of the proposed slaughterhouse: the mayor: lori bagwell.
one of the supervisors complained that he had received emails from all over the world.
why would any one else care what’s happening in podunk?