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, March 05, 2003
Happy Boozy Booze...
Ian, my drunken ASSistant will be here soon...
I'm checking out the comments that have been left by some of you from the Kevynn Malone Day list.
I hope nobody is confused. It's kind of funny, I feel like I'm in the Amazing Race or something and that I'm a couple hours behind the fastest and noisiest car that's in first place. Fuck did that make sense?
I should've said that I feel like Rascoe P. Coltrane chasing the Duke Boys...
That would've been better.
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Hi! Comments! Your FACE is a comment! Huh?