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"I miss A.M. 580Memories, CKWW, what like I used to hear back home.
I like the way peoples heads look when they got long..."
More about Justin
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Messaging Off[Restricted to Justin's friends] |
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More About Justin
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Schools (Other):
fighting tartars
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Occupation:
back off man, I'm a scientist
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Affiliations:
Midnight Funk Association, Electrifying Mojo
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Hobbies and Interests:
mostly old time radio
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Favorite Books:
I just finished Gravity's Rainbow for the third time and I'm still not quite sure what's happening
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Favorite Movies:
Putney Swope, The Holy Mountain, Strozek, Dark Star, The Phantom of the Paradise, Sisters
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Favorite Music:
Leonard Cohen, Lo Borges, Little Willie John, Hank Ballard, John Carpenter soundtracks, the "vocals only" disc from the Pet Sounds box-set, Captain Beefheart, Johnny Mathis, Bart Davenport, Sam Flax Keener, Last of the Blacksmiths
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Favorite TV Shows:
Degrassi Jr. High, Degrassi High, Hey Hey Hey Music Champ, The Office, Chapelle's Show, The Fast show
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Zodiac Sign:
Virgo
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About Me:
I miss A.M. 580Memories, CKWW, what like I used to hear back home.
I like the way peoples heads look when they got long afternoon sun behind them.
I'm half-and-half Jewish and Catholic. My insides are made out of barnacles.
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Who I Want to Meet:
John the Baptist and Keith Moon. For an afternoon of skeet
shooting. With a bottle of mescal.
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Testimonials and Comments for Justin
Justin is a photograph. In the
photograph I think I am wearing his
underwear with bananna and two
lemons shoved accordingly. I also have
on an elastic waistband, no bra and a
stinky sweater. At the time of our pack
to destroy the earth I was to stupid to
see the rays of light beaming out of his
eyes sparking off of his inner barnicles.
Had I seen this sooner I would have
ignored his plea to not trust him and
continued to be in his band. I love
writing songs about Star Wars-there are
so many. Justin, I am sorry, will you
please re admit me to your rolodex?
should never run with coffee.
you decorated my entire apartment with clippings
from The South End? (ha ha) or late night trips
through the ghetto in the super egg? WSU wouldn't
have been the same without you or chili cheese
fries of course.
empty basement. an ominous sizzling,
like links of human limbs tossed onto
the ol' Hibachi. the rich, coppery
taste, not unlike blood-soaked
pennies. extinguished matches beneath
the scent of freshly-mown grass. a neo-
erotic shudder, the kind you sometimes
get while taking a leak.
this is what i see, hear, taste, smell
and touch when within shouting distance
of Herr Frahm.
Dale Carnegie graduate's basement
studio; you constantly found new ways
to trick me into taking off my shirt.
Which is a little scary because I
think I was 15. Then you got all
handsome and moved across the alley
from me, ensuring lovely summers of
Hamtramck balconic beer-sipping. I
cried the day I went to your apartment
to say goodbye and you were already
off to the coast (wait, I may be
mistaking crying for making out with
your brother). Nicole and I pine for
you now in Chicago...
palsy for a brief period of time, the
advances we've made in the science
have been epic. He is the enema
chaser to my clam dip shot of bourbon,
the moustached mustard marauder, and
an all around straight shootin'
bonafide sonofabitch.