Friday, March 29, 2002

Well I suppose it's time to clear the bottle of scotch off the desk for (heraldic blasts from 1,000 angels from up on HIGH) the Shiny Mag Pieces are like so done.
Praise God, Praise Patti Smith, Praise Dave Matthews, Praise Green Tea, Praise Peeps.
Do not Praise those peeps which absolutely freak me out. Who eats these?
What are they? Sheep, lambs, chickens? Do not eat of their glowinthedark yellow and pink confectionary selves.
It's Easter, Holy Shit. I told Lead Boy Colleague that I think the last time I left my computer it was Christmas or thereabouts.
I am free.
Oh, I want to share with you a tale of my famed procrastinational skills.
While clearing my head of the mathematical problem that is a 3K piece I was caught by beau in this position, visualize hard:
I was singing a Meatloaf classic hit at the top of my everything, standing in front of the refrigerator, door open and my legs and arms spread in a classic rock gesture.
Time to regain my photographic composure. Writing leads to insanity. Writers are kooks. Photographers, well-balanced, and funny to boot.
Again, don't eat those fucking PEEPS.

No comments: