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, May 29, 2003
Did You Know That Elvis Presley Had A Twin Brother?...
No, not it wasn't me. I'm not that old. Geez. I'm...how old am I? I'm 27, I think. I often forget how old I am. No, but serious, Elvis' twin brother's name was Jesse Garon Presley. He was born stillborn and they buried him in a shoebox. How crazy is that? Pretty fortunate that he died, because wouldn't you hate to be Elvis's brother? But, then maybe The Big "E" wouldn't have been a huge rock and roll, hunka, hunka, burning honky if he had to deal with an identical twin. I think that all identical twins are screwed up in some way. Who the hell would want a carbon copy of themselves stealing your shit, hogging up your space, and competing for oxygen? Not me, it was hard enough growing up with an older bro and a younger sis. I bet that somehow, it was all Colonel Parker's fault. Like, he had a pact with the devil and that he'd been shadowing Elvis' mom for years, waiting for her to pop out her twin set of little hicks. He knew of The Prophecy Of The Coming Of The Big "E", and was just waiting to whisk him away, and train him, so that he could have him perform evil deeds in order to dominate the world. Or something to that effect.
Fuck Colonel Tom Parker. He was a rat bastard.
And poor, little Jesse.
No fried banana sandwiches for him...
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