tattoo you

how i wish, pursuant to a previous post, that fantasy island truly did exist and not just as a tv vacation destination but as a real life eden. that would be a kick. and on fantasy island these things would happen:

i would skip through days and nights unaccompanied by the sour haunting of unfinished business that right now makes me lumber through them instead;

i would not have to do any extra work and i could be carefree and always unencumbered;

my notes of introduction to people i fancy would be answered with zest and elan;

i'd have extra dough, yo;

my belly would not rumble after lunch, resentful of that sour haunting;

prez would fall off the wagon and we'd dance in the streets at comeuppance.

i read today how some hipster kid is trying to use his radiohead ticket to scam a date. the last time i tried to get some random person to go with me to a show, it was about two years ago, the band--bette seveert (pls excuse mispelling) and there warn't any takers. that speaks more to the trendiness of radiohead, i hope, than the unlikeability of moi.

now, i've got a golden ticket too, two in fact, but i'm going with a friend, a radiohead-head, though my days of fandom have waned some. and even more rockwise, i just learned that i was at rock and roll fantasy camp (for a story, i swear it) some time ago with bush's new press dude. he can play a mean rush lick. should have broken my tambourine over his head while i had my chance.

instead, with the help of liquid courage, i covered ramones covered in sweat and then got flamed in playboy for having a bad voice.

but on fantasy island, my devotees raise lighters in appreciation.