no new mail.
no name on my datebooks
what an empty desolate
no potatos
no tomatos
no swing dance lessons
what subconscious patheticism
no signposts
no scapegoats
no pocket protecting prophets
no idea screaming sockets
what dreary savage
no network television yet
no cartoons or doodles
no subscription porn
no dreamtime crap
no science fiction fandom
what sad sad sad sad sad