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, January 07, 2005
Flair And Trying To Fall Down The Stairs...
Whatever you do...if you aren't already mired in it...
Don't you ever.
EVER.
Work in a restaurant.
There are only two emotional options that working in this industry allow:
killing others
or
killing yourself
That's it.
Flo from Alice and Shirl from What's Happening don't really exist.
Bartenders and waiters are hummans on The Planet Of The Apes.
I'm done.
Thank you and enjoy your meal.
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