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Tears of a clown…

I love Motown. The ULTIMATE in reverse psychology. How can you feel sorry for a clown with joyful sounds like that in yer ears?

Somehow I understand what Smokey sings.

Wickedly fricckin busy week, so much going on. Rolling right along on The Spot (check out our group). I’m very excited, and its shaping together quite nicely. If only the weather would warm up and we could get some progress done on cleaning, but opening is still weeks away, so all’s good.

Still getting flack on some fronts. Some people just never learn. We’ve apparently now got some competition here in Oshawa for filming. Seems some monkey discovered he could press a button and poof… I’ve procreated again.

Style and substance are sorely lacking in this society. Substance…. what a concept. Something you can see/feel/hear/taste/smell.

Feel. Well, I feel alot of things that aren’t substantial at times, yet they still carry weight. People’s words carry alot of weight with me. I’ve learned tho, to reappropriate that weight, cause you know… he ain’t heavy, he’s my brother, and he can carry his own shit thank you very much.

So last week’s theme was compliments, this week’s theme is ridicule. Turns out that I’m a laughingstock. Yup… people take the time out of their lives to discuss me, laugh at me, and even plan demises for me to entertain themselves further.

Hehehe…. funny how that there mirror works.

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