Nicholas Misanthrope, Eton flop loosely laid, brings over the Larry Cohen horror film The Stuff.
Blue-eyed cretins spooning white goo and vacating their rubbery corpses.
He talks about staying in Thurston Moore’s attic after playing a rock show with his roommate and awaking to dogs sniffing him and stumbling out into North Hampton, Witches of Eastwick, sunlight daggers.
A text from Happy the drug dealer. Nicholas watches bemusedly. The smart phone emits a tinny voice exclaiming Planet! Gong!
Soaked soybeans never get soft. They cook up with four eggs and two old red peppers and one Japanese eggplant and a handful of rice. Release this haggard psyche, permit its unlikely survival, perhaps. Turmeric, brown sugar, cayenne pepper, rum, olive oil, shallots, chopped garlic, sautee, bake, sautee hot, simmer.
Flashing red and blue lights through the frosted window. I Hope They Didn’t Get Happy.