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, April 27, 2005
Peter Porker - Spider Ham...
If somebody sends you an invite to a BBQ in Santa Monica this Saturday and you don't have any idea as to whom it's from? Then you must go. You'll have more fun, or at least there will be a hint of surprise as you're driving there. Who am I kidding? I don't drive far. I think I'll have to ask around - but I get the feeling that I just don't remember the person telling me in person because I was drunk at the time. Big surprise.
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