I am Jane Goodall's Tanzanian monkeys typing about bananas. My fingers are Santa's little helpers. My hope is a sporadic rainfall - yet a torrential downpour in all creative environments. I am Theseus, unspooling golden yarn. Sisyphus, sweating uphill. Bukowski, scribbling away in rooming houses. A river always flowing. I am the nightmare of stagnancy And the god of imagination. Not really... I'm just tired And Full Of Poo...
Monday, June 30, 2003
Where Do You Think You're Going, Captain Solo?...
Damn.
Even if I'm dead tired.
I can't leave a gibberish message like that.
So, my camping trip kicked major booty. It was hot as hell, but I knew it was going to be. I now have a very red back in the shape of a wife beater. The t-shirt, not ( fill in the blank with the name of a major star or sports figure who beats their significant other. ) I drank a coke that had a bug in it and then it bit me on my lip while it was inside my mouth. I saw coyotes, kangaroo rats, snakes, birds that looked like Elvis, crazy Germans, and swdish girls riding bikes out in the desert. I cheated and went back into town and ate a salad from Jack In The Box. I drank a lot of water. I drank a lot of Bud Light, which is basically the equivalent of water. I called my girlfriend and Joe, Cheech and Chong, Beavis and Butthead, Shaggy and Scooby, and Dawne and Joe - all in the space of one smoke-filled car ride. I hiked two miles yesterday on some ungodly, horrible, but beautiful trail that led to an abandoned gold mine. I almost gave up twice. I thought that It was a hard trail or that I was out of shape. Joe said that it was both. Joe's body is still there. I was sneaky and tried to get into the mine. I didn't climb over the fence to the main mine - I slid under the fence. Like I said...I'm thin. I finished a book. I won't tell you which one, becasue I waaaas kind of embarrased to be reading it. Not Harry Potter. There was a meteor shower on both nights, and I managed to not see one meteor. I blame GOD. I used an axe. I like chopping wood. My toes get scared, though. I probably listened to forty CD's. I was worried about my cats. I was worried about bills and my mail. I felt weird about not writing. Then I felt like a jackass for even thinking about it. I went rock climbing, but had to take it easy. Bum ankle. Bum Dee Dum Bum. I'm already forgetting all of the things I did. I stared up at the stars a lot. I stared into the fire more. I mercy-killed a big, fat bug that flew in and out of our fire pit. It was about the size of your computer mouse. I was going to say something else. I am very tired. I must go. I will not use spel check. I really and drifting off right noe. I thank you. I'm serious. I just spilled a Sprite. Goodnight.
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