Saturday

...more missives taped illicitly from th'far reaches o' ol' charlies mental capacitors,speakin' in trailer trash visions from th'darkside o' gonesville,where it all goes in but dont necessarily come out,this is th'blooze from th'backend o' nowhere'n as nowhere must be somewhere it could be here or it could be there,it could be anywhere,but most probably,'n all th'pointers indicate this certainty,its by now everywhere...charlie is th'worlds most strange pop star,fully on in heavy effect twenty4seven,goin' at high speed in a sittin' position throwin' down th'weird truths from th'depression o'th'human spirit...th'uglyness'n uncertainty that has plagued th'minds o' countless millions down th'ages manifests in charlies back alley stories'n haphazard philosophies that hold water when th'tide is low but're prone to leakiness...victim o'society or th'product o' a C.I.A control plot may well be th'sum total o'charlies worth but theres no denyin' he's a barroom prophet in th'age o' bland celebrity hype,a shaman from th'deepest recess o' thinkin's unsteady beginnin's,wobbly hyperbole from beyond th'hollywood babylon...

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