ode

Austin, how I love thee.

I love your smelly hippies, your drag rats, your ratty bearded homeless men with National Geographic photos strapped to their bikes.

I love your masturbatory obsession with your own coolness and oddity. It's endearing.

I love your yellow grass, your scruffy mesquite-y trees. I love your rocks poking out of the ground. I do not love your complete lack of basements and your fuck-off expensive thrift stores, but I'm willing to overlook that for the moment.

I love your breakfast tacos. God, how I love them.

Austin, where the thinking and the front yards are cluttered and complex. The perfect antidote to a week's worth of linear Northern thinking. Yes. So, um, yeah, I'm glad to be home.


Eric and Brandi have a beautiful house, and a beautiful kitchen, and a cat with a shoe fetish. They shall be the Gothic King and Queen of Toledo, for I have declared it so. And it would be nifty. And folkloric. And I don't have to do any of the work. Scene-building - GO! I command thee!