So I went home this weekend to enact a little queer theory upon an ex-girlfriend, Missy, who went to Los Angles and came back and was ahamed of it all.

Which is sad because every one who runs from home always comes back now and then.

She thinks she is the only one to have things get fucked up when she leaves the nest, but that's all crap because as long as there is a home, someone will run back to it.

Fucking cowards.

But even H.P. Lovecraft and Robert Howard lived with their parents, so why do my dumb-shit ex-girlfriends think they have anything to be ashamed of?

If all one can do is send a few dollars to the Roth-IRA and buy ramen noodles, then count yer blessings. Yer stilll alive.

amidst jealousy

But doubt lingers, fools.

ANNIE SPRINKLE