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.
Wednesday, June 23, 2004
How I Spent My Summer Vacation...
Blogger's now in my cool book. They helped me out. All I had to do was send them a couple of Spiderman comics and some old Hustlers. I am now putting my manuscript of The Great American Novel back in my drawer. I was just on the part where Detective LePuy kisses Madame Goldstein at the old Ralston Bridge and accidently knocks her over and she falls 143 feet to the water and dies. This is much better.
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