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.
Friday, January 30, 2015
Tuesday, January 06, 2015
Dear Samantha, this year didn't start off as well as I expected but I'm going to take it and turn it all around and think about it as a positive experience and not a negative one. No details needed but...the overall lesson is for all of planet Earth to not be a Dick York about small things and if you catch yourself being a Dick Sargent about small things then...STOP BEING A DARRIN STEPHENS. Because that's a big thing.
This applies to all of us mere mortals.
This applies to all of us mere mortals.
Sunday, January 04, 2015
You ask me to play more classical music...
I say to go through my records and pick something that you've never heard before.
WU-TANG?
Well played, Grasshopper.
Well played.
WU-TANG?
Well played, Grasshopper.
Well played.
Saturday, January 03, 2015
I went for a drive again...
I came home three hours later.
Southern California/OC is a strange, strange place.
It makes no sense.
Alaska makes sense.
It's probably a lot harder to drive around aimlessly in certain parts of Alaska, I bet.
That's about all that I have to say.
Southern California/OC is a strange, strange place.
It makes no sense.
Alaska makes sense.
It's probably a lot harder to drive around aimlessly in certain parts of Alaska, I bet.
That's about all that I have to say.
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