Queer folks are made of these. I present to you Acid Mothers Temple, the boyfriend's latest fixation. He has gotten quite heady with psychedelia lately. And I know he holds a grudge against me for having my hair chopped off, though he hasn't gone explicit with it. He thinks my old hair was a psych rock acolyte's dream. Please lar. I pledge allegiance only to Lightning Bolt. Noise over psychedelic any day, man. The age of hazy days and a surreal outlook on life is waning for me.