My newest zine

Hello Everyone! Here is the cover of my newest zine. It's a guide for urban gardeners on which herbs will grow well in pots. It has a couple of recipes, but mostly it's about growing from a seed and what to do with it when it's ready to harvest. If you're interested send a trade, Mix CD, or a $1.00 to me at:

Sixth Minky
PO BOX 8891
Moscow, ID 83843

Or, if you're a member of the Carrot Row Distro, you can order it from Dan.

Have a GREAT day and have fun growing!!

It's Not A Tumor!!

There is no way to explain how my brain screams. I'd like to explain what my brain does, but as I am the only one inside my head and I don't know what a real brain does. I only know my brain. Lately my brain has been screaming. I can't make it stop. I can't turn it off. The only way to get it to be quiet is to sleep.

I want to cry out for help, but I don't know who to turn to. People get tired of helping someone with a mental problem. They'd rather I just "get better." But, I can't. Think of it as a brain tumor. A problem in my brain that I can't fix. People don't expect someone to fix a tumor, but they do expect a depressed person to "fix" themselves. People want me to be "fixed." But I can do nothing about my situation any more than someone with a tumor can.

Please, I beg of all of you, try to understand. I don't do any of this to try to get sympathy. I don't do this to get attention. If I could change it, if I could have a NORMAL brain I would do it in a moment. If I could get my brain to stop screaming...if I could just be normal I would. I can't change it though. What I need is someone to understand that I have a disease. I can not fix myself. I don't want sympathy. I do need help.

VOTE!

My Boss sent me this link:

http://abcnews.go.com/politics/MatchoMatic/fullpage?id=5542139

It's AWESOME! It asks you to choose which statement you most agree with and then it shows you whose political standings you agree with between Obama and McCain. I took the test and of course my ideas totally lined up with my choice for president. But it was interesting to take nonetheless. Everyone...take a minute to check this out! It's worth the time.

What Ever You Do, Don't Tell Freud

As many of you know, I have the craziest dreams. This one was ice cream induced. I'm sure of it. I've been me for a while now and I now that THE WORST thing for me to eat before I go to bed is ice cream. But it was Jamilee's birthday. What could I do. Anyway...

In my dream I was incredibly talented. First of all, I was an assassin. A very good one. A very highly paid one. But I dressed like a hippie. Long skirts. Ratty hair. All that. It was glorious.

A bit later in my dream I also learned that I was a prostitute. A very good one. A very highly paid one. Still dressed like a hippie.

There was a family in distress. They looked like they needed help, so I jumped in. They had a landlord who was threatening to kick them out if they didn't pay him more money than was necessary. I decided to dispatch him for them. However...

Before I left one of the teen aged girls asked me how she could get into the business.

"Assassin?" I asked.

But she wanted in the other business. I told her; safety first. I directed her to the home of a wizard who could help her as he had helped me. My secret talent to protect myself...the wizard gave me power to change myself into a Pit bull. Any customers get rough, I turn into a Pit bull and tear out their throats.

Ice cream induced? Certainly.

Revealing of inner parts of me? Most probably.

Do I want to know what it reveals? No...my subconscious is hiding it for a reason.

Whatever you do, don't tell Freud.