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, March 23, 2006
So Much Hair On His Palms, He was Chewbacca's Hand Model...
Jesus, work is boring.
Last time I did anything this repetitive, I was ten...and then couldn't touch it again for like, a week.
i'll trade you especially the next time i get a call from some meth-coke-speeded-out trucker on interstate 5 who decides it is all my fault his mortgage company is gonna foreclose and then i spill pineapple juice in my keyboard and he proposes marriage and the district court is on the other line waiting to talk to my boss who has me retyping some letter he scrawled and then the trucker gets in an accident i'll just call you and say, hey, you need something to do?
i'll trade you
ReplyDeleteespecially the next time i get a call from some meth-coke-speeded-out trucker on interstate 5 who decides it is all my fault his mortgage company is gonna foreclose and then i spill pineapple juice in my keyboard and he proposes marriage and the district court is on the other line waiting to talk to my boss who has me retyping some letter he scrawled and then the trucker gets in an accident
i'll just call you and say, hey, you need something to do?
"How far is space?" that's the question being asked me right now...exhibit A of why I'm not often bored, despite my moniker.
ReplyDeletesomeday, I will be in l.a. and I will make you entertain me for one hour and 32 minutes.
That was the funniest post I've read today, though.