I’ve told you before that I don’t know where my stories come from. They explode in alcoholic frenzy and develop imagistically via internet theft. I must be drinking the wrong stuff because I stole the photo’s without plagiarising the words.
I know you can write this!! xx!
I think you are being unfair on yourself. It was you (and Tracey Emin) that ponced off Diderot’s unmade bed. It was you who distorted Kenko’s ‘strange demented feeling’ and Ou-Yang Hsiu ‘letting my brush write what it would’. With respect, fuck off and write for yourself shitforbrains! x
A bit harsh Dr. Lin? Didn’t you write something about gods, gardens and concatanations?
I think so.
‘Concatanous Garden Gods’ should appeal to readers of your unorthodox dystopian linguistic hell!
Are you being nice now?
Not sure – possibly provisional.
On what?
The next thing you scribble!
I can walk on eggshells placed on rice paper!
Don’t talk shoite!
A horse and a silly scooter being pushed admiringly by a Confucian figure. A Janus-faced laughing Buddha, a lady and an acupuncture head indulging in podophilia.
If you don’t stop, my knickers will never dry!!!
The western Godzilla god girl stalking a monk floating away without fear. The crime scene, man falling over because of the overwhelming gravity of his square cock. Is dat enuff?!
Not ever!!!! x
