Webaster and I were sittin and drinkin in my pink tin trailer Lili, when looky who pops up on my psycho-babble screen, I was all done lurking for you, given you up for dead, missin six weeks during our hardest time ever at PSB Snakepit, and whereíd you end up,

elusive little heartbreak so-what, humpin on the parkin meter, leaning on the parking meter, slumming in the old neighborhood, tell me about it,

I go piss on Ďem myself every now and then. FOUND!


Now that youíve offered the charmingest go-die Iíve seen since my own expulsion I just have to ask whereyou gonna go to develop your talent? You bring the news Miss 8888, voice like that needs a forum, needs to say what itís gotta say, either that or all your love ends up in vain, and we canít have another one of those, right?


My boyfriendís impressed by the absence of self-pity in your farewell fuck off, yes, let the bitches go, hold tight to life like your boy animus has a hold on your muse:

little roosterís crowing, must be something on his mind,

little roosterís crowing, must be something on his mind,

well I feel just like that rooster, honey you treat me so unkind

(this is not a bad thing of course).




My hellhound will teach me how to teach all artistic/ex-victim/psychiatric/supreme

beings how to kickstart their own websites, soon, Iím serious, the possibilities are endless, but basically speakin are new-fangled suicide stoppers, itís our world-wide-web right, all free and goes on forever, all yours to take over whenever youíre ready, ok?




Love, Robin


















Copyright 2002 Robin Plan and