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 a God of Imagination.
Wednesday, November 20, 2002
I don't Care...
But besides a documentary about Chimpanzees using twigs as termite-fishing tools,
I don't know what could be better than a Victoria's Secret fashion show on t.v. right now.
Well, maybe a Victoria's Secret Porno on t.v.
Well, maybe a Victoria's Secret Porno/Radiohead concert/Thundercats/Dean Martin/Twilight Zone marathon....
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