Sunday, December 01, 2002

Platypus, Cookie-puss, and Sisyphus...

Sunday is for sleeping, but trying to get up early.
Ummm...probably not writing, even though I want to.
I have to call April and have her come over so that I can rub her pregnent belly. I want to whisper dirty things into her navel.
Not turn on the t.v. unless it's Star Wars related.
Not turn on this computer unless it's really late.
Feed my cat.
Fuel my fire.
Quench my desire.
There's no band practice cuz' Ryan's in France-the bastard.
I'll need to pick up an L.A. Times.
Pick up some lollipops to give to random children.
I need to let it loose.
Lay low.
Aim high.
Eat pie in the sky.
Wear something other than black.
Pretend I'm black.
Pretend I'm white.
Waste the day.
Get wasted.
Create waste as a consumer or fecal-wise.
Listen to music.
Play music.
Play in the park.
Play with myself.
Play Bocce ball.
Play dumb.
Play dead.
Playfully tweak your nipple.

Thank You.

Lick me til' your tongue hurts. I'd appreciate it...

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