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.
Friday, May 28, 2004
A Message For You From The Guy That Screams In The Middle Of The Street And Pretends To Hold A Rifle...
I just gave him a couple of bucks as I left the store and he said," Tell you're friend to be safe, okay? Be safe! Be safe!"
I said that I would even though he didn't specify exactly whom he was talking about.
So...ummm...BE SAFE. Yeah you.
And then five minutes later while I was in my car at a red light, I saw a teacher herding about twenty little kids across the street in a crosswalk. A little girl did a cartwheel. I smiled.
That will probably be the coolest thing I'll see all day.
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