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, June 30, 2003
Where Do You Think You're Going, Captain Solo?...
Damn.
Even if I'm dead tired.
I can't leave a gibberish message like that.
So, my camping trip kicked major booty. It was hot as hell, but I knew it was going to be. I now have a very red back in the shape of a wife beater. The t-shirt, not ( fill in the blank with the name of a major star or sports figure who beats their significant other. ) I drank a coke that had a bug in it and then it bit me on my lip while it was inside my mouth. I saw coyotes, kangaroo rats, snakes, birds that looked like Elvis, crazy Germans, and swdish girls riding bikes out in the desert. I cheated and went back into town and ate a salad from Jack In The Box. I drank a lot of water. I drank a lot of Bud Light, which is basically the equivalent of water. I called my girlfriend and Joe, Cheech and Chong, Beavis and Butthead, Shaggy and Scooby, and Dawne and Joe - all in the space of one smoke-filled car ride. I hiked two miles yesterday on some ungodly, horrible, but beautiful trail that led to an abandoned gold mine. I almost gave up twice. I thought that It was a hard trail or that I was out of shape. Joe said that it was both. Joe's body is still there. I was sneaky and tried to get into the mine. I didn't climb over the fence to the main mine - I slid under the fence. Like I said...I'm thin. I finished a book. I won't tell you which one, becasue I waaaas kind of embarrased to be reading it. Not Harry Potter. There was a meteor shower on both nights, and I managed to not see one meteor. I blame GOD. I used an axe. I like chopping wood. My toes get scared, though. I probably listened to forty CD's. I was worried about my cats. I was worried about bills and my mail. I felt weird about not writing. Then I felt like a jackass for even thinking about it. I went rock climbing, but had to take it easy. Bum ankle. Bum Dee Dum Bum. I'm already forgetting all of the things I did. I stared up at the stars a lot. I stared into the fire more. I mercy-killed a big, fat bug that flew in and out of our fire pit. It was about the size of your computer mouse. I was going to say something else. I am very tired. I must go. I will not use spel check. I really and drifting off right noe. I thank you. I'm serious. I just spilled a Sprite. Goodnight.
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