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.
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Yo Te Llamo, Madre Cass...
I swear, the alcohol's eating away at my already-atrophied brain. Some mornings there are Word documents that I don't remember writing. Sometimes there are new desktop shortcuts. Sometimes I'll create a new blog that I always end up erasing.
Last week I found four pictures on my desktop of a naked woman that had to of weighed at least 800 pounds...
I'm hoping that I thought that the pictures were funny.
Seriously, because you never know about some people when they're drunk...
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