supermarket conversation:
tarah: matt, you feeling o.k.?
matt (me): i've been fasting, low blood sugar level.
tarah: why?
matt (me): i don't know... i could blame it on easter.

what are these addicts      doing here?
am i selling *******, am i selling ******?!
  what are these people doing here?
is my writing as addictive as to attract 20 or more
so people like it might be expecting a *harry potter
                                  instalment?
    is that code for: also dr. seuess?
          is my writing a bit like selling drugs?
dunno... ever heard the kresy accent
from sami swoi (1967)?
      - or that note that greeks have about
the turks having "constantinople"...
   i don't hear a lot of ******* about
               lwów / l'viv: lion: lew (lev).
             i could listen to a greek gay provocator
nagging about this sentiment ringing true
                toward the passing of the next two centuries...
                          but this is an anglophone world
after all... who the **** gives a **** about
           Lviv ever belonging to poland?
                  next time you hear an advert to
become a tourist in cuba... or costa rica...
                 so *******! eat yer bananas!
get yer suntan... and shove your cultural darwinism
where the sun doth shine...
                             and then choke...
       on edgy popcorn where 3 ***** croaked for a
                                                         forlorn sun
to exhibit the morn...
                               such suns are only worth the set,
or known egyptian ugly σεθ...
                          and nothing else...
    but then again: working out and
the cult of the gym is as ugly as any other that
might provide us with arguments against
    the gluttons;
       where's the cue prompt at which i start laughing?
małgorzata kożuchowska, maybe, someday,
but obviously never. what? you were expecting
a daydream involving paris hilton?! eh?!