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.
Thursday, March 06, 2003
Ill Communications...
Well, this sucks...
Winners will be announced pretty soon. I've just been gone all day at the ankle doctors and at my girlfriend's car place, and then we had to run a crapload of errands. I'm finally home, but am on obligatory phone conversation number one. It was daytime when I started talking. it's dark now. This is why I hate talking on the damn phone.
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