July 27, 2017


took a look.

there's a room of animals.
there's a room with drawings all over the place.
it's scary.
oh yeah, another hole in the wall now looking greasy along the edges.
did something disappear within like a sick animal or is this another calling crevasse? 

more faxes came in. the pile is a pattern. too much damn profanity in it. it mentions some orange chump whose name rhymes with CHUMP. 
it's abominable stuff, the work of this creature and its minions. Yuck.
there's also a love letter to trans people.

we aren't slowing down for shit.
it's just a bit of quiet civil war that we beloved artists are facing. will we give up? HAH.
fuck, i got a high-five last week for yelling at some pig in his patrol car. fucking pig sped up at me at a crosswalk on the stroll home. lousy stinking swine then goes all Biff Tanner with sly mocking "watch where you're going..." like some fascist scum out of a movie. The pig was dark-skinned; pig traits travel along all the pathways of the body to taint its souls. It's a nasty power trip that seemingly attracts weak characters and unpleasant bullies into its service here in the good 'ole USA. His eyes were brimming with menace, the frustrated eyes of a murderer with free time on his clenched fists.
I yelled back, "you're supposed to look out for us" and then called the pig "the proverbial" as I turned to leave. he stayed in his squad car, angry as a beaten back rapist. 

honestly kids, fuck the pigs. 

this won't make news. it won't set the world on fire, but an old Italian fellow followed me into the store I'd ducked into for cover and shook my hand with love and spirit. 

he said "good work, they should be looking out for us, but that just isn't the case". 
his smiling eyes were a pep.

keep love in your heart and don't let those pigs get to ya. 

The Management

transcribed by Dordery Marks and laid down here by a kind creature...

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