The Maxx
I Am the Jungle Queen!
CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!
I am The Maxx. Born and orphaned by age six. Foster homes, adoption, the works. Smoked weed for the first time at 18, a few months after my adopted parents kicked me out--which is biggest favor they ever did for me. An estranged and disturbed older brother gave me my first bag of mushrooms and I never looked back.
A few snowy nights of homelessness, then I get a crappy job and a crappy apartment. I work about a year then go Greyhounding across the country a few times for various reasons. Wind up is Seattle. Snorted some blow, and I smoked meth twice. Two years later I'm headed back across the country. I weave myself into an art collective, warehouse style, which eventually the resident old drunken man burned to the ground. But I wasn't living there anymore.
Now it's six years of being a bike messenger, going through all kinds of adventures. I did acid for the first time somewhere in there, and quite liked it. Mushrooms I ate whenever I could, maybe a couple times a year. I didn't like salvia at all. I tried it several times to find out what I didn't like about it.
Now I write and draw comic books (no, I'm not Sam Kieth, though I greatly admire his work) and live in a basement somewhere in a town near you. A year and half ago I did my first DMT extraction and fell in love. It's what I always wanted acid to be, and now I have a seeming endless source and method of extraction. How cool is that? Frosty cool.
Pharma has transformed my life, or should I say helped me to change myself and all parts of my life are greatly improved.
What else to say?
I've spilled ink. Dang.
CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!
I am The Maxx. Born and orphaned by age six. Foster homes, adoption, the works. Smoked weed for the first time at 18, a few months after my adopted parents kicked me out--which is biggest favor they ever did for me. An estranged and disturbed older brother gave me my first bag of mushrooms and I never looked back.
A few snowy nights of homelessness, then I get a crappy job and a crappy apartment. I work about a year then go Greyhounding across the country a few times for various reasons. Wind up is Seattle. Snorted some blow, and I smoked meth twice. Two years later I'm headed back across the country. I weave myself into an art collective, warehouse style, which eventually the resident old drunken man burned to the ground. But I wasn't living there anymore.
Now it's six years of being a bike messenger, going through all kinds of adventures. I did acid for the first time somewhere in there, and quite liked it. Mushrooms I ate whenever I could, maybe a couple times a year. I didn't like salvia at all. I tried it several times to find out what I didn't like about it.
Now I write and draw comic books (no, I'm not Sam Kieth, though I greatly admire his work) and live in a basement somewhere in a town near you. A year and half ago I did my first DMT extraction and fell in love. It's what I always wanted acid to be, and now I have a seeming endless source and method of extraction. How cool is that? Frosty cool.
Pharma has transformed my life, or should I say helped me to change myself and all parts of my life are greatly improved.
What else to say?
I've spilled ink. Dang.
CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!CHUNG!