here's some stuff...

if you look closely at the So Real video, you can clearly see that jeff is riding a BIcycle, not a TRIcycle or a UNIcycle. therefore, he must prefer things in pairs. however, there are three evil monkeys, suggesting that his prefered number is not quite two. and if you look inside the Grace jacket, you'll see a CLOCK motif, all set to relatively the same time, and a KEY. you see, it is TIME to UNLOCK the mysteries of life by listening to grace. also, they come in even numbers: six clocks and two keys. this supports the bi, quad, even-numbered sexual preference. and since x=(b+-(b^2+4ac)^1/2)/2a we get x=4, NOT TWO! dy/dx gives us a slope of TWO, confusing this equation further. however, we get a maximum at TWO as well! from this, one can simply differentiate the current accepted value of hubble's constant to get ZERO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SO from the gradient of the original equation we can see that the graph of jeff's sexuality is a sphere, curving upwards. facinating!

nate!

OK, Im really pissed off now, not only do I have the most shocking case of PMT, not only has the boy that I love not been in touch for 4 days, (possibly something to do with PMT???) not only is the work I am doing driving me nuts - budgets yarda yarda, expenditure reports yarda yarda - *very* over due yarda yarda. Not only did my house mate bring a loud voiced American boy home at 2 AM who found it necessary to stand outside my bedroom door and yell at the top of his voice about how wired he was feeling and how coffee probably would not help calm him down (like DER!!!) But then I hear Jeff has played in Memphis.... do you know exactly how far Memphis is from Melbourne - Geez he might as well have played on Mars... I hear theres some really neat Martian Clubs ya know. I swear if He does not play any small intimate kind of shows when he next comes here there will be hell to pay ... Hell hath no fury like a woman with PMT...... *putting a sock back in it and slinking off into the murky shadows*

nadine

I touch the lifeline
I kiss his fragrant wrist
the fragile veins of existence
the warmth from my parting lips
running down the river
that is his being
I pray his heart knows
the way my mind turns
his wing
my hand
they fit
we clasp and fly limits and boundaries
unknowing spirit friend
you save my soul again

that's one of my Jeff poems I wrote when I was spacing out at work...yet again!

naz

wowsa