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, May 17, 2004
Malone On Babies...
What sucks about baby pictures is that time passes and then you look at the picture afterwards and then realize that the kid looks nothing like the baby picture anymore and it’s not as fun. Then, maybe, like, twenty years go by, and then you get all astounded by how young the baby was.
Yeah.
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