5.22.2008

Hammer

Maybe that’s why his eyes are so bright.

It's because we're reminiscing about Hagel now. Or the general thing effused.

There was once a girl with red hair and green eyes and she rocked.
And then after the smug perching, I wished I wrote it.

5.16.2008

I promise you later, it'll upchuck copious #'s

some things are like other things gone bad.
like tuna and rice cakes.
?'s : smell.


Tonight I will be your man, Seattle, so be a lady to me.

5.13.2008

Once I had thought (or not)

Something to amuse us all:
Danica circa 2001.

"Down by the bay,
The sun always beams,
While those gossiping clams,
Talk of meaningless things."


I did manage to read through most of my "writings". It was kind of pitiful. If not completely.

5.12.2008

They all relate. Don't be (im)pertinent.

I don't smoke enough. Also, I think I just saw what I think to be a heron. Thinks.
I need to write more. Perhaps I will.

5.11.2008

Gigglewick Schooner

It's either all bad or I smile too much.

5.09.2008

world tackles

I realize that I could use this space to vent my spleen. There's a lot, and it certainly could help. But if, eventually, I choose to share these scrambles with my peers (the inevitable), then I'd rather, at least try, to grapple more than just the mind-grimace moments of my days. Though I will smile to you now and say, "Fuck that shit".

This little blogger ain't called Harangue for no reason, bitches.


You do realize that "bitches", a plural jest, can only refer to singular me, right? I am the one I let into this blog: you shouldn't be offended. Now go eat your winklings and toad over it more.

5.04.2008

Chang's

If I ever have a husband, I'll want him whimsical and weak. He'll die young from food poisoning after eating his usual dish at our usual table in the back of Chang's, where the lights are slightly dimmer and we're closer to the kitchen.
In remembrance, I'll start a foundation to find the cure for some macabre disease. The foundation will be his Christian name followed by a question mark, and it'll make him sound alive.
I'll never cry for the loss of him.
I'll publish his memoir. It will be pure fiction.


I'll fix this later.