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, February 26, 2003
One Hour Scrotum...
Sorry. Before I go to bed, I have to tell you that I dread the dentist tomorrow. I might actually be going to sleep before two a.m. I was at the store tonight and finishing up my consumeristic naughtiness, girlfriend was looking at a Vogue magazine and contemplating on whether or not to buy that filth. I kind of know everybody at the store, and was making small talk with the-not-too-bright-but-friendly-bagger-boy.
He said, "See you later, Kevynn!".
I was thinking that my girlfriend and I had to "Take Off".
I was thinking about saying, "Take It Easy" to the bagger boy.
So, I looked at the-not-too-bright-but-friendly-bagger-boy
and accidently said..."Take It Off!".
And then hurried away.
Very, very fast.
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