nachips

Hmmm, the wolf. My friend definitely said lonely wolf. Perhaps lone wolf would have better established the base of my existence, while lonely defines the emotional world I (usually) inhabit.

My room is on the side of a hill. I can look out my window and see lights from nearby single family homes and god-knows-what in the distance. About a kilometer away is a freeway. Next to it runs the T-Bane line to Kringsja. Every 15 minutes I can see the T-Bane ride by. It is beautiful at night viewed through bare trees, lit cars moving across my window. No leaves left. Sunsets at five. There is occasional snow in outlying parts of the city, but I haven't tasted it yet.

This week I have downloaded and loved music. Against Me!'s latest album, New Wave, is anarcho-punk at its funnest. Meat Puppet's II is just so damn good I can't believe I hadn't heard it yet. I knew a few of their songs from Nirvana covering them for MTV Unplugged, but hadn't heard the band before.

I'm still waiting for a haircut. I look ridiculous and usually wear a hat.

I don't know what I'm gonna do for Halloween. There is a big International Student party. Most folks I know are going. What will I be?
Tempting to go the guerrilla revolutionary look: green shirt and pants w/ hiking boots.

There are many many magpies here. and pigeons. Thats about all the birds I've seen.


where do bad folks go when they die?
they don't go to heaven where the angels fly
they go to the lake of fire and fry
won't see 'em again till the fourth of july

i knew a lady who came from duluth
who got bit by a dog with a rabid tooth
she went to her grave a little too soon
and flew away howling on the yellow moon

where do bad folks go when they die?
they don't go to heaven where the angels fly
they go to the lake of fire and fry
won't see 'em again till the fourth of july

now people cry and people moan
look for a dry place to call their own
try to find some place to rest their bones
before the angels and the devils
fight to make them their own

where do bad folks go when they die?
they don't go to heaven where the angels fly
they go to the lake of fire and fry
won't see 'em again till the fourth of july