Joe Provo's Junk

If the doors of perception were finally cleansed
I could see your face again
and my love for the world would be wild and pure

-Machines of Loving Grace


Every page on the net is "under construction". These pages are "under mutation"; they change every time they are visited, barring a few nescessary constants. If you're lazy enough to stay here fifteen minutes and your browser supports META tags, we'll reload the page for you.

Service offer: send me unsolicited, "bulk" (commercial or non) email, and I'll proof it for 50 dollars a line! See here for more info on my valuable offer!

If you want to be blackholed at the gweep.net mail server, thou jarring doghearted fustilarian, send mail to my old flame-bucket or to an old address. If you don't like something about these pages, or wish to correlate address scraping thou droning rough-hewn strumpet, send mail to my current flame-bucket. If you like something about these pages, send mail to web-comment where scraped appears in the mailto link.

Word-of-the-Moment:
Helpful

Totally Random Joe Provo Fact Number One-Hundred and Seven:
He worked at a small movie theatre in Williamsburg, Virginia in the summer of 1989.

"A construct made of cloned human tissue, augments, anxiety, depression, and unforcused rage, a killing machine for whichever humans rented me, until I made a mistake and got my brain destroyed."

Go check out info I've found interesting in various RSS feeds.

Want more spew? If you need to calm down, read some haiku.

And as a parting shot, today's Weekly World Spew headline:

Vogons From The Dog Star Invade Thumb Valley, Kentucky, Are Killed Off By Insomnia.

Cheers,
joe