IMMORTALIZED STILLICIDE or the frozen spit whose shape induced an epiphany like Kekulé’s.

As one of the most social orthodontists in Valencia, I can say with acuity that this voluble blog, whose dilating domain of discourse reflects the author's uncanny cultivation, will warm--like the vortex of a Brazilian whore against my pulsing member--the hearts of all who shall espy it. My vocation, lest you forget, is to perfect the human smile.

Thursday, December 08, 2005



Dear Duane M. Kinbote,

I am writing this post on a Blackberry in the back of a van outside a casa della puta in Tijuana. I am with Esperanza. You've heard of her, right? In case you forgot, she's the whore who fucked you over for six million. The girl who just happened to come into your life right after I just happened to "get dumped" by Jenny.

I've engineered everything immemorial and forevermore. You have never been in control. In case you were wondering, I took 5.9 million and gave Esperanza the rest. She spent it on cocaine and is currently lying in the passanger seat and dead. Before she died, she gave me your user name and password. The blog is mine again. I'm back. Back to stare dead-on into the eyes of a world that has called me nothing and proclaim my arrival. Hello, world. It's me, Lester.

2 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

He's back!

11:35 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

yeah nigga

2:01 PM  

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