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, November 17, 2003
Crawling King Snake...
Plumbers here. But he's waiting for another plumber. This sucks. Who should I blame? Whose fault is this? Professor Plum did it. In the lavatory. With a lead pipe. Speaking of filth, I saw the Paris Hilton Sex Tape. She had glow in the dark eyes because the thing was shot with some kind of night camera. There were no midgets in the movie. She's an excellent actress. I give her an A-. The musical score sucked. Ummm...that's about it. Think of all of the hits I'll get now because of mentioning plumber so many times. Links will be provided for the Paris Hilton Video for $8.61. Thank you.
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