my name in your book of, 'who's whos'

I'm working on weeding through the Book and a half I wrote on tour with This Condition this summer, but I'm quite distracted. I'd rather be cutting up clothes, or playing with hair dye. I'd rather not be nervous about tomorrow, and viscously reading about Sid and Nancy, Johnny R, DeeDee, Joey, Malcolm, and Vivienne. If you can say who all these people are, text me immediately and be my valentine. I'm sitting here distracted thinking of how I'd much rather have been in their era, beating the shit outta everybody who crossed me and doing things just to get a reaction. But instead I'm in this era, with tools obsessed with hooks over messages and twirpy drummers who run their mouths. If Johnny were here, he'd fix him. I sit here writing the secrets of anyone who crosses me and posting things just to get a reaction. Ok. So these eras are not completely different. But there was better style in theirs.

My current Book was abducted last night by two very brave personalities. I say brave because they're crazy if they think one of them won't be feeling repercussions. I'm not sure whether to get even with Matt for holding it, or like him for having the respect to give it back. Anthony was the original guilty party, snatching the Book from my bag while I innocently drew a picture of Matt 'wizarding'. (see @matthewincolor for reference) Someone's going to pay for the knot I eventually went to sleep with. In the end, I got the Book back by trading Matt the favor of turning on the air conditioner. Special thanks to MikeCondition for his urgent comparative skills (he told Matt the Book was like Pandora's box), BigCityJustin for being no help at all, and Nathen Frosting for not even answering his phone. Just remember what Mr. Rotten said, "Anger is an energy."






...Terica.
"I'm Not Your Stepping Stone" by: The Sex Pistols