an orgy for bibliophiles

me going to a book festival

is like letting a pervert run loose in a whorehouse

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click above for info

ever get the feeling you're being followed?

i do - all the time

but that's another story for another time

this tribe of wayward literates followed me from doorstep to downtown

i'm sure i've seen that sanchez guy on a poster at the post office - or was it in the bathroom

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this bookfest thing was like the first time i found porn on the internet - sudden and limitless access to so much stimulating tripe - overwhelming yet ever so pleasant

one day only - once a year - like sex when i was married - i knew i'd have to take what i could get while the getting was good

repeatedly the weather threatened to make this quasi-wet dream truly wet but each time a few drops of rain would fall i would look to the sky and say a little prayer

"fuck you lord not now"

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the rain stayed away and it wasn't long before the lord was sending me messages

messages are everywhere and this one was on a tshirt i got free with a subscription to walrus magazine - "promoting writing literacy art and public discourse on matters of importance to canadians"

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met homer simpson in the men's washroom where we shared a urinal

he offered to felate me for $20 so he could buy some crack - now i don't go in for that sort of thing much - but we're talking celebrity here and homey was really jones-ing - look at his face -

- the best $20 i ever spent -

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picked up a couple back issues of shameless

a magazine for "girls who get it"

news views culture and style without the marginalization or objectification.

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more word on the street

more more word on the street