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.
Monday, May 12, 2003
Building A Robot...
I just erased my post by accident. Bastards. I just worked almost fourteen hours. Tomorrow, I will do nothing at all. I will try my hardest. I swear. I will pay a bill, and call the dentist back, but that's it. I want to sleep. I will wake up, eat, and then go back to bed. I will Drink beer and roll up my girlfriends change when I am asleep also. I'm serious. I will not answer the phone. I will check my comments. I will dot my eyes and cross my tease. Ha. What? I don't know. That was stupid, yo. I want to do absolutely nothing. I will die for a day and cease to exist. I will hire a Puerto Rican midget to handle all of my affairs tomorrow.
I will love you forever. I will be dreaming about throwing things at your crotch. Thank you.
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