for christmas my brothers girlfriend got me an amazing book that everyone seems pretty surprised that i didnt have which is a testament to my tastes considering the subject matter. DEATHSCENES is a breathtaking reprinting of a 1920s homicide detectives scrapbook of crime scenes, suicides, auto accidents and collected phantasmagoria emPHASis on the GORE, i absolutely lerv it, it has all these pictures youd think you would have seen, except you havent and gives the saul williams title ‘…said the shot gun to the head’ a literal connotation instead of BANG! or that dweeb from nirvana/

she also gave me a fuckin lovely ass weekly planner in which i have planned to redraw a photo from the book a week, to practice drawing, which i should be doing. meanwhile young jj (thats my brother) gave me a hella old record book, from which a page was used for the above, the sister act soundtrack on cassette and the original score to Mrs Doubtfire, also on cassette. mind you, i said score- so its not that house of pain song they play during the birthday party when is it joey lawrences little brother? is jumping on the sofa like a ding-dong, its like cello and shit when sally fields is like why does my daughter hate me, and a richard feynman book on the country of tuva*. 

*tuva is a miniscule mongol-russian country whos main (and perhaps sole) export might very well be their traditional throat-singing, which i have long been obsessed with after smoking DMT for the first time and a documentary about a fat, blind, blues player from the mission (SF) flies there to learn from the master throat singer his ways happened to be playing in the background, forever drilling into my heart it’s droning din.