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, February 24, 2004
Cat...
Jumped on my shoulder while I was pooing.
I tried to lean a little...
and it was an expensive sweater, y' know?
So, I tilted to the right - but he wasnt down with that.
His grip only tightened.
So, then I tried to, kind of, lean towards the left. Towards the shower.
I pulled back the curtain and...
He clawed the hell out of my neck.
I screamed.
On the toilet.
It would've beenn a lot funnier if you would've been there.
But...why would you be in the bathroom with me anyway?
Get out.
Don't stay.
How do I get in these situations, btw?
If my life was a movie - you'd pass it off as poorly written...
Oh...wait.
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