>144 ahead<

144-ahead

folsom was just coming in. jackson, in his studio recognised the slam and nipped the needle out of his arm. the patented l.s.d concoction*1 had had its usual side-effect of perceived self-mass reduction and he’d spent the last 20 mins trying to get ig I or II*2 to open the door, just open the fuckin door. folsom opened it. fuckin wino’s. jackson’s studio was really an unused corridor lined with cork (mostly sheet though wine stoppers filled the grooves and corners) effective, though the stench was gut turning and a lunatics voice from t.v looped incessantly whenever i was in here “oh, (slurp, mmm) now this one gives me a rancid vinegar kick with splashs from a syphilised skunk….”.
[Read more →]

FILTHY THIRD PSALM (237/237)

butech4
unique citizenship realized and spiced higher essence that pales only before the sun of the cadence of speech. caffeine linguist. having carefully edited sect tone with line which extends to the separate reels, he was about to play thee of them; [Read more →]

BUTECH WANTS YOU!

THE CONTAINER OF ALL LIGHT-ONLY
butech2
we have to leave, that much is for certain. whether its part of the great plan or not, this island is terminal – so rat.
[after a mysterious tip (origin unknown) and finding myself rum
maging around a dusty junkshop on an island within the ring-o-
fire, i finally came across the material i had long suspected
to exist1.
the true function of the Holy Grail.] [Read more →]