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"I will dance with you."
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cookies, preserver of the memory's odd
moments in scraps of plastic and tape
wrapping! Sadly my most recent live
memory is years old... but there is no
one you'd rather wake up and realize
you've known for almost 10 years. I
don't know where my high school or
college diplomas are, but i know where
to find the Certificate of
Heterosexuality issued to me by Ian,
who knew. I don't always know where to
find my heart, but i like knowing that
Ian keeps a fresh young piece along
with the other keepsakes of kidhood.
It's like that poem by Thich Nhat Hahn
that goes something like, "I have lost
my smile/but don't worry/the dandelion
is keeping it for me." Ian is that
dandelion! Georgia, you got a lucky
lawn.
today which also happens to be the
number of times Ian solicited 49 year
old French transvestite for a back
massage and got denied.
In responce to John Tyszka it is true
that most people don't think of peaches
while listening to Ian's band. That's
why I only listen to kindercore while
reading Hustler magazine.
whole "playing the skin sax" thang
earlier. I always forget to tell
people "Hey, I'm a Bruce juicer, you
know, a Waylan, an ass sniper, a cum
magician. I have a hand on the may
pole. I'm soft, in the Navy, and a
macho man."
But seriously, I blame all the fruity
music you got me into. Trust me, the
last thing going through my head while
listening to Kindercore bands is
fucking clam. Thanks to you I'm the
only gay indie popper in Syracuse.
Jackass.
But serious seriously, I'm coming out
of the closet, I'm mallcore now.
Oh yeah, Ian's neat. Mos def the
coolest cat from Sorryexcuse, NY. If yr
not hangin with Ian, yr not hangin!
Ian's class ass!
"it" all about. I have.
It was crisp winter night as I came over to
Ian's place to help him put together his new
Huffy bike he won in a Toy's Are Us contest.
I looked at Ian and asked him the burning
question.
As soon as I asked he turned pale white
then raging red and then back to flesh. Ian
then sat down and proceeded to tell the
long, sad story of when he was 6 years old a
crazy old mail-man known as the Pig swiped
Ian's red huffy bike and rode off north to
Alberta, never seeing the bike again.
After a pause Ian then continued to answer
my question, carefully whispering "What's 'it
all about?...Redemption. Now if you will
excuse me, I got a some Canandian bacon
to fry."
That was the last time I ever asked
Ian...anything.
rhymes, and I knew he could go down a
water slide like a motherfucker. But
Ihat I didn't know until yesterday when
i saw him walking down the street is
that this boy has quite the gait. Like
some kind of extinct flightless bird,
but more graceful.