Archive for August, 2001
As always, the fashion houses pick up their best ideas from the streets, quite literally in this case, as the riots in Genoa and Seattle spark a new line in fancy headgear.
Someone needs to code this for the Sims. Seriously. (Sorry for opening the link in a new window, but it’s just easier)
“We had motorists, truckers, people in a Metro bus, screaming at her to jump,” assistant police chief John Diaz said. Sadly, she did.
These are lyrics Dylan would be proud of:
Motorcycle, the vehicle for long-haired young gods.
My god sports a glans-shaped jeweled crown we call a helmet,
sticks into azure jeans his legs with long shins,
puts on heavy boots adorned with many golden studs,
and dashes through the twilight of purple gods.
At the moment, midway on the stone steps behind a theater, for example,
my god is in the midst
of a blood-reeking conspiratorial discussion
with other long-haired gods.
Their youthful conspiracy is too dazzling, too fragrant for me, passing the foot of stone steps, to clearly discern.
Below the stairs, only the god’s seat made of steel gleams like a living thing.
I touch the motorcycle, particularly that part of its seat which was just glued to the ass of my god,
still retaining the ass’s warmth.
My god eats Kentucky chicken, drinks Coca-Cola, and from the dawn-colored slit of his beautiful ass
he ejects shit.
Not speaking Spanish, I’m only guessing when I say that this comes from what could well be a collection of gay Latin-American skinhead fiction, but if anyone wants to correct me (I’d particularly like a rough translation of the latter part of the first paragraph), then please feel free.
I must admit I approached Friends Reunited with a degree of scepticism. Currently riding high on most search engine charts, it’s a site where users can attempt to track down past schoolmates and then pay an annual registration fee of ?5 if they want to make contact. A search on my middle school brought up two best friends I haven’t seen since I left, whilst my college listing dredged up several more, plus my favourite ex-girlfriend (another I haven’t seen in ages) and someone else I really used to fancy. Now where did I leave my credit card? Mind you, some join up just to gloat.