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.
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Carl Sagan Poos On Your Cheap Ice Chest Flying Thing...
I will personally fly alongside the space shuttle when it comes back to ensure its safe return. You would think that we'd be able to upgrade a space fleet so that they don't fall apart. The tiles on the space shuttle are like my teeth. Big gaping holes and wide, open spaces.
Forget the war. I'm going to further space exploration.
I'm getting off of this planet and starting my own colony somwehere else.
And Warren Ellis will be the Minister Of Defense And Alcohol.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment
Hi! Comments! Your FACE is a comment! Huh?