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.
Monday, August 15, 2005
Half Pepperoni, Half Baby's Breath And Some Sides Of Ranch Dressing Please...
So, if I, coming home from work late last night, considered getting the girlfriend flowers as a surprise - but opted instead to get her some frozen french bread pizzas - does this mean that I am totally unromantic or just that I know my girlfriend way too well?
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