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.
Tuesday, September 02, 2003
Show Of Hands, Kidney-Gardners...
And what did you do last night, anyway?
All that I'll tell you is that somebody
stole my beers when the hour started getting late.
Isn't that a kick in the liver?
I did beat the friggin' pants off of my friends tonight in poker,
and that's all that matters, in the long run because my luck has been lacking, as of late.
I had the worst luck when it came to everything else tonight.
I had some pleasant conversations tonight.
That was it.
Laborius day?
Yes.
Pleasant?
Sort of.
What did you do yesterday, Bubba?
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