Journal of Pirate Lingo*


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* not an actual journal
of pirate lingo

16.07.01 - 5:56 p.m.

I bought a sweet bike yesterday. It has front suspension, brakes, etc. Many of the features that you get with today's top bicycles. Plans are to go extreme into the mountains and bike to work whenever possible. To start off, A. and I went for a ride along Chloe Greenway.

"You are now entering Dinosaur Forest"

"You are now leaving Dinosaur Forest"

I tagged along with her to the Vivarium, where she was buying mice & chicks to feed her snakes. They had this tremendous boa constrictor for sale-- thick as a big man's thigh, coiled in endless piles. The sign on the aquarium said "aggressive, unpredictable. for experienced handlers only." Jenny thinks that after a few months, when it doesn't sell, they're going to change it to "tame, perfect for small children!"

I left my bike at A.'s place & returned to SF in the evening, with an extra pair of mountain bike tires around my neck. People kept staring at me. I had to fight the urge to blurt out, "I didn't steal these tires!!" I had to meet baycrew @ the metreon & didn't have time to drop off the tires, so I had to carry them into the movie theatre with me. More looks. It reminded me of what jay fundling used to say. "If it isn't illegal to stand on a street corner in the middle of the night holding a color television, why do cops always act like it is?"

We watched Final Fantasy in IMAX. Spooky animation, faces that almost looked like people-- a cross between different movie stars, Sandra Bullock and Ben Affleck... I was thinking of idoru. These faces of people that never existed, but they do exist, towering 10 stories above the crowd.... there's a moment where the real/notreal girl and the real/notreal guy kiss in zero gravity, and it's both breathtaking and terrifying, as a pure visual spectacle. Because they're almost more beautiful than any real person could be. Dare I say, they're... hyper-real? (BEATINGS ENSUE)

Libations at Cassanova in the mission-- good vibes.
After x drinks, the world becomes a poem
a lady walks in selling flowers
six women are carrying a blow-up man

Shopping at Pussycat-- purchased letter jacket circa 1950. I am ready for the sockhop! (BEATINGS ENSUE)

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