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singular book of text wandertainment by Frank Edward Nora
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OSOAWEEK--ISSUE 088--3/29/96
<-------  ||  OsoaWeek  ||  Issues  ||  Book 7  ||  ------->
(Cup OWis088, Created v1 (4/27/99), Copyright 1999)

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[[BEGIN088OW]]



[[01088CV]] * * * O S O A W E E K 0 8 8 * * * March 29, 1996
"The weekly ezine of Obliviana Super Occult Amusement!"
by Frank Edward Nora

CONTENTS

01 088 CV--Cover
02 088 LA--Lord of Obliviana
03 088 NH--Nihilistica
04 088 SU--Superior

OsoaWeek088, March 29, 1996
10th issue of OsoaWeek Book Seven
Written by Frank Edward Nora

Published weekly by Obliviana Super Occult Amusement
(E-mail address in transition)
1-800-OBLIVIANA
http://www.obliviana.com/~osoa

All contents copyright 1996 Frank Edward Nora

Regarding this file, you are free to make digital copies, so long as they're not altered or sold. All other forms of reproduction require permission. An Obliviana Cup containing this file will be available. Stay tuned for more details.

ASCII Characters: 37521 / Words: 6916 / Lines: 809
Days late: 0

*OW*



[[02088LA]] Lord of Obliviana

Sat 3/23/96 * 3:07 PM * home * Tarb 3627

I decided to call Eons Trick Sojourns. Okay.

Saturday today... feeling really weird today... other people are acting weird too... I think it's the influence of the comet...

Anyway, I'm still lost. I mean, I want to clean up my apartment, but I'm lost. Fuck. Why? How much longer will this garbage keep going on? Garbage. Can't keep my apartment neat, can't keep up with my bills, can't create all the stuff I want to in Obliviana, can't get a girlfriend...

Complaining. Yeah. That's what I'm doing.

Well, let me try it. I mean, if I threw out everything I owned and started from scratch... but no... nothing that extreme... but just the idea... I'm burdened with so much stuff that I'll never look at again...

Tue 3/26/96 * 4:51 PM * Amtrak * Tarb 3646

--> On Friday, I bought a tin box of 10 Macanudo ascot cigars... I was smoking one as I went into "In The Black", a trendy coffee shop near where I work. A girl behind the counter asked me what kind of cigar it was, and it turned out she was a cigar smoker too. We talked for several minutes about cigars, but because I'm such a loser, I couldn't parlay it into anything more. She wasn't bad looking.

--> Sunday before last and then on Saturday, I said things which I shouldn't have, considering who was present. But my mind kind of short circuited; it wasn't keeping track of who was present properly. Foot-in-mouth kind of thing, not a real big deal, but annoying. Bet it's a symptom of ADD...

--> On Sunday I went over to my parents' house and recorded the Beatles Anthology 2, which my brother just got. Good stuff. I helped him copying some software for one of his friends. Then I went to my grandmother's house and continued sorting out my stuff in her garage attic, wearing a dust mask this time to protect me from the bizarre atmosphere of that space...

--> Comet Hayakatake (or something like that) has been visible for the past three nights, and I've seen it every night, below the Big Dipper. Not too impressive, but I might have noticed it if I hadn't heard of it. Just a dull, blurry glow, bigger than a star, but smaller than the moon. I hope to check out the full lunar eclipse on April 3, but it's a worknight, so who knows.

--> Remember this movie "Drop Dead Fred"? I haven't heard anything about it for years. I thought it was pretty good, though. It had Rik Mayall (of "The Young Ones") and Phoebe Cates, if I'm not mistaken, and it was about a woman's childhood invisible friend, who she releases from some sort of prison, and how he causes havoc in her adult life... I'd like to see it again...

--> For lunch yesterday, I lit up a Padron cigar in the stairwell, and smoked it while I walked all the way to the World Trade Center. It was maybe a half-hour walk from 150 Varick. Then I got a pasta and vegetable salad and some sushi, and took the E-train back up. It was a really cool interlude... nice weather... the hustle and bustle of downtown...

--> I think it was my high school senior trip... we went to a place called "Fernwood" or something, like a ski resort, in the Poconos maybe... on Rt. 209 in Pennsylvania... I passed by the place a year or two ago with Peter Litkey... I was on Rt. 209 cuz like, you know how 209 is so important in Obliviana and everything... so anyway... I was a senior in '84/'85... I had to have this weird guy Dave Michaels as a roommate... we had to sleep in the same bed and it was exceedingly uncomfortable... we didn't communicate at all... I was all worried about it, making sure I was under more or less blankets than him, so we wouldn't be in the same space under the sheets... I was a loser, loner, and nerd. They had Disks of Tron in a little arcade, the regular upright version, and I played it much. I think I had these really queer "moonboots" my mom had bought for me, and people were making fun of me for wearing them, so I wandered off into the woods. Then I crossed a stream and trudged back on the other side, only to realize that it wasn't frozen and thin when I finally got back to where I started. So I waded through this ice cold water... and rushed back to my room... fearing frostbite... That night there was a toga party? Or something like that... me and a few other of the socially inept lurked high up in the bleachers, chins on our hands, hunched over, watching the normal people dance and stuff... I remember there was this hot girl Julie Clapp, in a toga... but my libido was stiff suppressed... I was such a nerd... anyway, I must have had a dream about that toga party some time after that, and that dream stands out far sharper in my memory than the actual event... it was just... me walking down the hall to the darkened room where the party was, and I saw Julie Clapp standing there... in that toga... I wonder now how much of that was true and how much dream. Was it a toga party? I think it was. Then... eating, likely alone, in the dining room... and walking out... I made up a character called "Scarf Ace"... like "Scarface" but separated in the middle, so as to make it a superhero with a magic scarf... eventually I made up a storyline called "Scarf Ace, Mister, and Pipe". Mister was a misty, elflike girl, and Pipe was a robot. The idea never went anywhere. I might revive it for SR though. Anyway, I remember going to the ski area with someone, who knows who, kind of like a dreamfriend--being with someone, but that person has to real identity... I was apprehensive, but I decided to rent skis and try it out... but the ski lift was busted... and it was getting late... so we gave up. I think we were there for maybe two days. I vaguely recall getting on and off the busses. I question whether it was my senior year... but Disks of Tron... yeah, 1983 or so?, it had to be sometime around then. What a mess I was. A total emotional vegetable. No concept of banter or Led Zeppelin or girls of sex or drinking or smoking or anything. What a little fool I was. Goddammit, NOW I'm at the right emotional level to be in high school. I think I could handle it, with my current persona. I'd probably be a burnout though... I'm still awkward around women... I'd get into Zeppelin and pot... yeah, I'm pretty sure I would, even though I never got into it at all n my life... but my current personality, with the shackles of high school life... I'd definitely just become a burnout, there's no doubt about it. So maybe it's good I was a little nerd. Maybe...

--> I don't know when it was, a few years ago, but it was at Journal Square, by the elevators on the main level going up to the parking decks, and this guy was putting out a fire in a garbage can by dipping a mop into a bucket and then dripping the water into the can, even swishing the burning garbage around a little. He was a semi-comatose, old, short, stocky, most likely non-English-speaking janitor sort of dude. I thought how cool it was to see... a weird thing to write about someday... I think I may have written about this before, but I can't remember where...

--> Last night, I lit up a Fuente Opus X (a $14 cigar) and smoked it all during the Oscars and my work on developing the Obliviana Roadways. A few times I went out on my balcony and leaned on the railing, looking at the comet, over my roof. It was a pleasantly cool evening, and a wonderful experience. The Oscars were pretty good, especially when Kevin Spacey started talking about Keyser Soze (who he played in "The Usual Suspects", but if you haven't seen the movie yet, forget I told you that). But the main thing was my work on the Roadways... I came up with Ape, Amp, and a lot of other stuff then...

--> I was browsing the dictionary last night (American Heritage 3rd Edition) and I saw the word "shark". And for a few seconds, I said to myself like "'shark'--cool word--kind of like "Snark"--I wonder what it means? Then, of course, I snapped back to reality and realized what it meant. But it was awesome to be able to view the word "shark" as I would have if it really wasn't a word... hope it's not a sign that I'm losing my mind...

--> All these "arrow" entries were done off a list I made last night and maybe the night before, in one of the Obliviana Primal development files... here it is... <<<Notes for LA... cigar girl, insult people, Beatles tapes, comet, attic stuff, Drop Dead Fred, walk to WTC, Senior Trip memories... or was it 8th grade?... Fernwood? Toga Party, video games, Dave Michaels, wade thru frozen river... how my thought drift there often, Scarf Ace character... on Rt. 209 in PA... guy putting out fire with mop at Journal Square, Opus X during Oscars, shark (cool word--I wonder what that means? (Snark?)), etc.>>>

--> I'm going home early tonight cuz they're changing the locks in the goddamn apartment complex I live in, so I gotta be there. Fuck. It's such a goddamn mess... I'm embarrassed to let anyone see it... guess I can clear away the part that's visible from my door... look at me... what the hell is going on...

--> Sitting outside PJ station now, pleasantly cool breeze... almost uncomfortable, but not quite, sunny, sun starting to set, listening to disc one of Beatles Anthology 2... I'm Only Sleeping... got the new Stone Temple Pilots CD today... called "Tiny Music... Songs from the Vatican Gift Shop"... not a good title.

--> Did I write about this before? Last week, maybe Thursday night, I was at work late... I was outputting a job, and I kept getting errors... I wanted to get the 10:30 train home, and I was gonna leave at 10:00, which woulda left me plentyatime, but I only had to get one more piece of film out, a yellow plate, and I was finally working... so I waited... and got out about 10:15... really not enough time... but I rushed anyway, running at times on my way to the subway... but I had to wait many minutes for the subway, so I figured I could just forget the 10:30... and wait for the 11:41... well, I ran from the subway, and got to the platform and the train was still there... but the doors were closed... and it started moving a sew seconds later... this is what it's like being me... I couldn't miss it totally... I had to JUST miss it... Anyway, I was screwed, I had an hour and ten minutes till the next train. So I headed over to HMV on Sixth Avenue (now I'm sure I wrote about this before... but not the good part... the Conductor Girl part...) Yeah, so I left Penn Station via the 34th St. exit, and walked over to HMV, but saw from across the street that it was closed... I had thought it was a place like Tower Records... that would stay open till midnight... I walked down to 32nd St. and back to Penn Station... inside, I realized that some sort of concert had just gotten out, and the place was full of disoriented, drunken, young white people. I went to the waiting area, cursing the expectation that the train would be full of these annoying entities. Then I cracked open my PowerBook and wrote the end of the Lord of Obliviana section of last issue... that's where I wrote about this stuff... and now, the stuff I'm writing is gonna be the first time it's in OsoaWeek... okay... So I got the 11:41, and as I'm walking on the platform, I see CONDUCTOR GIRL! She's this bizarre girl conductor who I've seen on several occasions in the past. I had her as a conductor a few times, but the best time was during one of this past winter's many transportation armageddons, when the lower level of the NJ Transit/Amtrak area was so crowded you literally COULD NOT MOVE. The geniuses running the show saw fit to announce the Northeast Corridor train on Track 3 right when a Coastline train was letting people off on Track 4! It was a total mess. And right there, was Conductor Girl. She was very serious and humorless and she told people in a loud voice that if they didn't let her by, the train wouldn't be going anywhere. Man she's neat. At first, I didn't know if she was a girl or a really bizarre guy, but I'm convinced now she's a girl. She has short black hair and a strange look. If you know that Japanese cartoon Lupin, that's kind of what she looks like. She's wonderfully odd. Anyway... I get on the last car of the 11:41, and to my delight, there are only a few people there! And... even more to my delight... Conductor Girl is my conductor! Haha, yes. Well, I really wanted to talk to her, this Conductor Girl. But she was very businesslike and efficient in her ticket collection. A weird guy sat down in the last car, but then got up, all confused, and started scuttling away. He was like the idiotic uncle in "It's a Wonderful Life". Anyway, Conductor Girl told him he had to take his train check with him, and he was totally lost with that concept, but Conductor Girl helped him and I tried to make eye contact with her as in like "what a psycho!" but I didn't really succeed. Anyway, as the trip progressed, it became apparent that something was wrong. We were going like 2 miles per hour, and they were making all these insane announcements, about how we were switching over from one track to another, and another, and another... Conductor Girl was talking to a guy about ten seats up from me... and I saw that she was starved for conversation... the guy must have been a fellow NJT employee... but he wasn't too talkative... so all the elements were there for me to talk to her... the topic for conversation (the problems) and her need to talk... and finally, it happened... I asked her what the hell was going on, in a good-natured sort of way, and we started talking! Yes, we talked and talked and talked. We talked about the shitty car we were in, which she said the doors didn't even work properly in. We talked about the various train lines of NJT. We talked about how Amtrak train bathroom dump the shit right onto the tracks, and she told me how they were infamous for that, in her days as a Conrail track worker... we talked about many things, but finally, we got to Princeton junction, and she had to go to conductory things. In the vestibule, she told me how on the other end of the car, the door opened all by itself and she used her "train reflexes" to grab onto something. I tried to joke, saying "I'm no expert, but I don't think that's safe, train door opening all by themselves." but she either didn't hear me or didn't get it. Anyway, I had to say goodbye to my little Conductor Girl as I strode off toward my Jeep. The train was a half-hour behind schedule, and it was well past 1:00 AM. I'm glad to have spoken to Conductor Girl. She's a truly fascinating person, a great mystery. I mean, who knows, she might even be a guy! But no, I think she's a girl, but a very weird one at that. I think, if she were dressed up and stuff, she might not look all that bad. I don't know. I saw her as a kindred spirit of some sort. My impression is that she must live at home with her parents and be a total social retard, just like me. The social retard part, not the living with the parents part. Oh well. I have a feeling our paths will cross again. And when they do, you can be sure to read about it in the pages... er... the bytes... of OsoaWeek!

Thu 3/28/96 * 6:54 AM * PJ Station * Tarb 3656

--> Last night I went to the DMV... I just wanted to renew my registration, and then go over to the inspection area and show them my new registration and updated insurance ID car, so that my Jeep would finally pass inspection. I had gone there on Saturday, and the Jeep failed just cuzza the registration and insurance forms. Okay. So I get there last night at about 7:00 PM, and they're open till 7:30. Well lemme tellya--I was there till 8:00! I totally missed the inspection part! I gotta go back on Saturday now! What happened was, I never got around to updating the address on my drivers license. So I had to get a new wunna those too. And Jesus Christ, what a horrible picture they took of me for the new one! Far worse than the last one, which was pretty goddamn bad in itself. Oh well. Brand new license, registration, and insurance ID cards... and a brand new lock and key on the door to my apartment... idea for story--the door to some guy's apartment becoming the most important thing in the world, with scientists and government agents and all that crowding around it...

--> I wanted to finish this issue today, but somehow I didn't get the updating file of OsoaWeek088 from my other computer. And yesterday... I fully intended on bringing my PowerBook with me, but I was in such a rush to get the shuttle bus, I just totally forgot... after I parked and got on the bus, I was a little startled to see that the PowerBook wasn't there... so now issue 88 will probably get done zero days late... Right now, I'm writing this stuff in a file called "Add to 88".

--> Dreams last night... I was on a train with some other people... we were headed for the place where the space shuttle takes off... I was to be one of the astronauts, and I was confident in myself because I had already been on one shuttle mission. I was saying to myself "why am I scared? I already did it once already!" But I had trouble specifically remembering the mission. I feared the violence of takeoff and the re-entry... and I was thinking of checking out if you could really see the stars from up there and all that... I was thinking of testing some of my theories about how a lot of what they tell us about space travel is a lie... but I figured that astronauts must be briefed about stuff like that by evil government agents or something... later I was on a bus home from work... but it went to Westchester, NY before it headed for New Jersey... I asked the driver why, and he said the bus was going all the way to California... I asked him if he could accept my weekly train pass, and he did...

--> I remember at Walt Disney World there was a time of transition in their ticketing policy. When I first went to the Magic Kingdom, as a little kid, they had tickets for everything, in addition to the general admission. There were the A, B, C, D, and the famous E-tickets (as in "E-Ticket Ride")... Now, of course, the general admission covers everything (which makes sense, considering it's about $40). But at one point, they had like "World Passports" or something... these tickets you hung around you necks... but they also still had the individual ticket system... and I remember one night, after a rain shower, me and my brother and mother and maybe sister were waiting to get into the Country Bear Jamboree... and had tucked our World Passports inside our shirts to prevent them from getting sopping wet... and my mother was chatting with the attendant "cast member" checking tickets... and I remember very clearly, the person saying something like "and then you can show me your Passports", in kind of a nasty way, as if we were these total scumbags, who went around after a rainstorm with strings going under our shirts, to trick the ticket takers at Disney World... I don't know... if I ha to guess, I'm thinking that would have been around 1980? I don't know. Guess I could check somewhere when they had that ticketing system...oh well... it just stuck in my memory for some reason... and the last story, about my dream last night, where I showed the guy my weekly pass, it must have jarred that memory loose... I wonder the last time I remembered it? Oh well...

--> I was actually lovesick yesterday... I felt a little queasy, my eyes were out of focus, I couldn't concentrate, all that. See there's this girl... ah, I don't wanna write about it just yet. Don't wanna jinx it...

--> Yesterday I got the 4:48 Clocker home, and at PJ station, I got "Virtual City" magazine and a large decaf... spending almost all of the money I had left... on the shuttle bus, I sat on a left two-seater, by the window, and put the coffee next to me, on the aisle seat. Well, when the bus made its first big turn, the coffee flew like a little superhero off the seat and landed upside-down on the floor, a flood of decaf seeping... I lifted the cup and to my dismay, a massive tidal wave of coffee gushed out... I guess a lot of it was trapped in there... weird... anyway, I tried to pick up the cup and lid, but I started burning myself so I stopped, saying like "Fuck! Fuck!" I think there was one guy witnessing all this, but I didn't look at him at all. As the trip progressed, the coffee traced weird, weblike patterns across the aisle, in response to all the different centrifugal forces... when I got off, I grabbed the cup and lid and shoved them into my coat pocket as I scuttled out the back entrance and into my waiting Jeep... I considered telling the driver, but I figured it wouldn't serve much of a purpose. Actually, it would have been the right thing to do, to own up to it, but considering the personality of the driver... I don't know... I don't think it was too bad to just leave...

--> Last week and this week my big thing has been to take the 6:50 AM shuttle bus to the train station, get a large decaf--black, no sugar, and a cinnamon roll, and get the 7:15 Amtrak, sit in the last seat of the last car, wait till after the New Brunswick stop, and then have the roll, then take the vitamin pills in the aluminum foil in my pocket, washing them down with the coffee, now cooled down a little... (I think it was last week I took the pills on an empty stomach and got so close to throwing them up it wasn't funny)... then I don't have to get any food at Penn Station... today, I drove to the station, and got to the platform about 6:45, missing the 6:40 NJT express. So I could have taken the 7:00 NJT express, but I said "fuck it" and waiting the extra 15 minutes for the far more comforting 7:15 Amtrak... so here I am... a little past New Brunswick, ready to again perform my ritual... and it does make me feel good...

--> It's good to be human. All these mundane things... morning rituals... being lovesick... spilling coffee... crapola with the DMV... weird dreams and memories... all of this is so central to being human... the kind of stuff you wouldn't miss until you were without it...

--> I just went to the bathroom, and then looked out the back of the train for several minutes. It was cool... the was a NJT train a good ways back from us, on the other track. Eventually, it caught up to us, and as it was advancing, a prop-driven plane crossed the sky low, coming into Newark Airport, I guess. It was a few seconds of visual transportational bliss...

Fri 3/29/96 * 8:36 PM * home * Tarb 3665

--> I think it was yesterday... I got to Penn Station and I needed to get $20 out of the ATM... I went to the nearest one and there was a long line... "the fools", I thought... for right up the stairs that lead to Madison Square Garden... not a minutes walk away... is another bank with a bunch of ATM's... so I went up there, and there was no line... maybe two or three people in there total... so I got my money without waiting... unlike those people who never ventured to explore their surroundings... the bank was outside on 7th Avenue, right at the entrance to MSG. So I decided I didn't want to walk back through the station. I preferred to stay outside, so I walked up to 33rd St. and strolled over to 8th Ave. The wind picked up and I was uncomfortably cold. I got to the 8th Ave. subway and went in... I went to the platform, figuring it was southbound, and started walking up to get to the spot where I'd be closest to the exit at Spring St. when I got there... but a train came before I got to the end... I went into a car with a lot of seats, and I wanted to sit so I could read Atlas Shrugged in comfort, but my effort was stymied... I especially didn't like one very unfriendly-looking black kid taking up two seats... so I figured I'd just stand... no big deal... but then the conductor said "42nd St. next" and I realized I got the northbound train! I had been totally confused! I got off at 42nd, crossed over to southbound, and started walking all the way down the platform, since I had been going the wrong way on the other platform. And I looked at the people. Such an immensely different feeling here than on the platform at Penn Station, not even a mile away to the south. These were all people who had just completed bus journeys to New York... they were so alien... so much more rustic and low-tech... it was a weird perception... and I thought, if I move to Clifton, I'll be one of these people. Damn it. I am not a bus person. I am a train person. When I move, I have to move near a train station... that's just the way it has to be... the bus is not an option... Anyway, I got to work a little bit late, but I was happy for the experience... it might have really affected my future... considering I am now rejecting the notion of bus commuting...

--> Okay. That's it. I'm going to finish this issue ON TIME. Do you hear me? ON TIME! Oh, guess what? I think I'm gonna get a haircut tomorrow. Can you believe it? And you know what? I think I'm gonna go to the Livingston Mall to do it... because that's a place I've had many haircuts... even several drastic ones... yeah... it used to be called Crosstown Traffic... then they changed it to Beaux Gens... and now? Who knows if it's even still there... but it makes the whole thing into something of a pilgrimage... I plan on getting at least six inches cut off... maybe a lot shorter in the front... I don't know, but I know it's time for a change... it's spring... And I might also get some new clothes... gotta look better... if I wanna get a good girlfriend...

Get all Obliviana.

*OW*



[[03088NH]] Nihilistica

***THE SUPERIOR THIRTY***

During two months, from November 7, 1995 to January 8, 1996, I reviewed Superiors 1 thru 364, and attempted to com up with the thirty best. Below is the place I wound up on January 8--not necessarily finished, but interesting nonetheless. Note that this is the first time a "B" version of a Superior has been presented. That is, an edited version, as in 195 and 313 below. So, enjoy.

(1)*
SUPERIOR 6
Lazy day and odd sun. Nine little pebbles remote in a vast deserted parking lot huddle together, speaking in relaxed whispers, having a little meeting. The clouds come. Thunder the darkening sky. Air the prime raindrops blossom forth in deluge collapsing onto the pavement. And the nine little pebbles have a little drink.

(2)*
SUPERIOR 144
Cripes! Sled Dog Anthony is in trouble. Be a friend, all ye. Find his savior, the Wallmaker in Citrus Pass, the Mopey Avahl Mortin. Pick him of the row, save the guy who all the kids love. Be a friend. Be a friend, all ye.

(3)*
SUPERIOR 157
Cough drops are smooth, the power to go on. You're a girl and your cousin is a girl. I am night time, amber light, amber night. Let it all go. Cool in the darkness. You fool.

(4)*
SUPERIOR 16
Bad banjo noise in cop car 5. None of your malarkey, Joe. Sinning regularly at gasoline-havens, wimping out at the slightest-boom. 135 unwed sweeties for smoochy. Catch a falling tar monger, Ted. Being a feather, I have no opinion. Being a diner owner, I cry always, in the rain, in the thunder nights, and lightning Dave went home too late&#151;it wasn't there.

(5)*
SUPERIOR 165
Fallaback, Hanson, the days of smoke and swimming are done with. Strange needle tonight, the friend of a friend and his cool walls. Discovery night, and you're trying to worship Freya. Predatory car, magic branch, Lord of the Mall. If it weren't for constant competition, things would be pretty dull around here.

(6)*
SUPERIOR 51
The radar echo would indicate lifeheat. Then I watched as the building, an office plaza, was blasted to rumble by an grenadier in shiny plastic white armor. His nemesis was gameshowhost. Just kidding, his nemesis was Roosevelt.

(7)*
SUPERIOR 172
Through these dank fields, did we all amble, chomping on shields, dining on bramble. The light of the morning, a massacre made, remember the warning&#151;in fog we do fade.

(8)*
SUPERIOR 53
Under the way, a friendly odd place, where broken colorful glass is there, and a land of friends is there, and a land of animals. The rainy reality system's gift, a many-aspect question, for the bright kids of yestermore. Just a slant crossing, just a bare react-fashion, just the former three, or four if you prefer. I was never grouped under those who pretend, but here all is lost, Emma.

(9)*
SUPERIOR 57
And it's a hunting. It's a knockout. Fan and random we ambled, and came upon an area funny. The darkness not under back a little, and all of us were frightening. Can this be reconciled, this days? Time travel is an option. Reality systems can'ts betrays evernessity. Lords of Uncontrol, we, nevery and quite silly. But all I want is the picture.

(10)*
SUPERIOR 3
Neither the trowel nor the dame are languid. Look, the state of night far college drive. See, the girlfriend is just barely a friend, young nightmare. In sleep I know I think. A daze is my only seen in a mall with a games are good. No pretend car!

(11)*
SUPERIOR 236
I am a wristwatch made of mist. Commanda Royal Blue, the cinnamon backlash affair. Junction, the mystery of the man made of milk.

(12)*
SUPERIOR 194
Thinking walhoe the of sodium chopstick the girl who lost her eyebrows and her date. Can do, slow auto junk corner, hot and super innuendo. Those cheeks, those jeans, gimme somma you Charlotte.

(13)*
SUPERIOR 177
This is happening. It is unregulated. I was quiet. In wood huddle. Sweet smoke on hill. Time has come to do some exploring. That is unrehearsed.

(14)*
SUPERIOR 30
Who are you, fraught with frivol and flit? I need to do it and you desire it. Please, below meaning, don't discover honesty or friendliness. Comfortable and nude in a blanket cozy and warm, the smell of Wheatina and a little Swiss Army knife and a bird outside sounds like a dot matrix printer. Remember this, the good arcade there, time and coffee daydreamica. What has happened here?

(15)*
SUPERIOR 195B
Flew at latenight rented car earlymorn, domed hotel and ralcifice office, the tin bannister sanction. Was I not a warrior, of skill and power? Billiard winter drink, I was in you, I was the deep glass window at the airport last night. I am burning.

(16)*
SUPERIOR 313B
Hint of pepper in the air and she's finally with me. Today for adventure, tonight for sexual adventure. Why are there computer graphics in my thoughts? Dear home, I depart, and must hope you'll survive. You have a mundane life, not here, but at most a day out like.

(17)*
SUPERIOR 4
Ponder sorts of emotions in malls, flee my construct, and eat a cake from a shelf. For the stone, I, the solid liquid, never before decided a fate as temporary as this. In ways, I terminate this building, paint a good sign. Please groove forever, my lusty love, for the good grain, bulbous, holy, and blasting, stems twigs as I walk along, can't compare to your form. A mathematician in a parking lot, inside the blankety-blank heat of her station wagon. Regard the silly nakedness of her yawn. If I wanna kick a door open, I'll do it

(18)*
SUPERIOR 43
Going through a rain highway I said was a goal and a fair romance. Free in a clearing were bolt haven the corner mazen. And the in the day was fine, and in mine and is cure.

(19)*
SUPERIOR 355
Mendel is isn't it. Imperial the Scout Lounge. Try motion and ski Neptuna. Financial and ethical skinny dipping do the kid. Matrimonial erase, indrenction. Dark storm campfire running, the mellow flicker, dark wave campfire strolling. Spokes.

(20)*
SUPERIOR 28
Being that wonder is slight, going all along the day midwall, the corporeal stab is the your sense. Building is the same, in a wane, in the stay, to over gas stations. Can we all mall? Snowflaw car, the day of the eatery's salad bar super tray. For the nice domed window above I call home, and a book on magic at the library is under a roof in the rain. Can all this be? Twis sury.

(21)*
SUPERIOR 125
I'm on Tabasco and she's on codeine. Sometimes on cable I flip past a rodeo. Ten minutes ahead of travel.

(22)*
SUPERIOR 2
To you, o master of nothing, I bequeath this feather of entity. Find it near the hollow waterwheels. Go then foolish man and seek your struggle. My gift to you is plague. My wish, fall. Neverbeginning, the simple rivertrickle dandy in its whistle. The day has come, but very long for you.

(23)*
SUPERIOR 18
Being thus in this befuddled transit, every time a new challenge, every time a new disaster. At highwayside's edge, my room is silent and still. At highwayside's edge, hands together so tightly, the freezing cursive tea. Neverending in driving around, I hacksaw my memory and curse the setting sun. A lazy heavy machine will sashay and loving mates may depart on railways unreal and of unshackled concordance.

(24)*
SUPERIOR 113
Paint your life with such blind flair on a canvas of nothingness. Seek justice and tons of pleasure, the prison of imagination. See the city in a different way than most, apart and aloof, going somewhere. Never understand the value of convention, inside your washing machine spirit. Right now there's so much to stimulate you.

(25)*
SUPERIOR 7
Dank blended heart, pleasing all morons in matters of affairs of the bit match smoldering in saliva sanguinely. Less else is nonsense to snare. Bareful bugs in neat supple vim. College caterwaul, blaming of the vane. Stupid awards in afternoon breezes.

(26)*
SUPERIOR 1
Hemidawn the racer, cracks the demishock of morn coursing through the dim. And into the arch of the former is the nixter, and for never the corner is the yarster. This is the fine design of the crying. Empty in derivation, and less on the keys than in the eye, heavy fingers upon the board, lane adored in dream. Found a pond and liked it.

(27)*
SUPERIOR 14
SIZZLE&#151;for formulas are dead, and science is stripped, and reality is mad as a flower. Corrupt as my ancestor sailed, he played childish games, equal to motion to pinball the secret. Shallow bread dunk in murky stagnant brack, the tired arithmetic splattered on hallway walls, super logic durable.

(28)*
SUPERIOR 162
Dark sky massive flight, Sunday destruction&#151;killflay their deity. Feminine day forever, was the and is the deep smell of girl. Foolin', retarded jigsaw circumstance, massage of emptiness, a bolt of heaven. Down for real, ignition in skin, a cold rainy street morning afterward. I'll take the outside.

(29)*
SUPERIOR 141
Peril. There are waves. Findout. There are clearings.

(30)*
SUPERIOR 200
What I know about Rome, chances with young women, and living in the world's coolest treehouse. Wild saw-mangled energy motorcycle, take the plunge Barry. Laughing on wingtime the spot gravellette. Earth hole wandering, just another airday tramp. Emma, the flask of the, Wallace, of splinter of congress of them, I opened the theater.

*OW*



[[04088SU]] Superior

SUPERIOR 505 * 3/18/96
How do you sit comfortably in a new love? Is there a hard part? Not if it stays potential. Like a pregnant flower, wanting to open, is it between us. And it is delicious. Trying again, Frank? Yeah, gonna swack me like a gnat again reality? Just me trying for some love. Why is it so hard. But I know I could do more. Better clothes, better hairstyle, lose that gut. Who am I? Feel like diving into the past to escape this present here. Not this time.

SUPERIOR 506 * 3/18/96
Drive. Garathy Plom. And kinship. It's a well, the theme is super liquid. Pollsters corrupt farm girls... did we not do this... art galleries in strip malls... If commemorative dream rugs are weapons, we are stripped bad again... bad mazes... Druid... minor TV star in 1984, is it all the harder to read about the young stars of today... living with super liquid... cold calling asexuals with the bodies you drool over, pussy.

SUPERIOR 507 * 3/18/96
Did. Hot decaf. Youth... woke up and I was still young... happy construction ride... Knock thus over... Think!... whee!... beacon, wrecked, fizzling library. Popularization of the computer before the personal computer. Chain link cobble stone. Be. My studio... others like me... not enough talent to soar... so I sup on a friend's boat... it is hidden. And I play those early video games.

SUPERIOR 508 * 3/18/96
Shockingly aware that Murder One, episode 17, is on tonight. Chemistry II never happened. Looks like it never will. Now that those three are shuffled deeper into the deck, I can find my way past it all... good. I was killer into typography when I never got laid. Them were the early nineties. Love. I remember the death of Jim Henson. I remember exactly where I was when I heard. Lunchroom at work, heading for the bathroom. The most profound loss of a famous person, see? He was up there with Disney... like I am...

*OW*

[[END088OW]]



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