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.
Friday, November 01, 2002
Like Mark said in the comments section of my last post-
I'm having a party. A cray-.......what? a cray?
a Crawfish party? No crazy hat party. Stupid fingers. Dumb typo.
Wow. I'm so wacky. Get a load of this guy, eh? Stand back. He's sooooo funny. Ahhhhh...no.
Yeah, we're all going to stick crustaceans down our pants and everybody at the party
has to guess what you have down there.
Hey what you got there? A lobster?
Naw. I've got Crabs!
Nyuk Nyuk Nyuk.
I'm lame. I need to start drinking.
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