Saturday, May 28, 2005


I thought it would be easy.
I thought the words would flow like water from the river that is my brain.
I thought I'd have all kinds of time to write what I want, when I want to write it.


Try working a full-time job and having a child as well. My days are not my own anymore.
I'm either workin' for the man or watchin' the child. I didn't land on Plymouth rock, shit landed on me. (Wait, wrong metaphor, oh what the hell.)
You know I wanted to be able to write some of the observations and thoughts that I have from time to time, but I usually have those at work, and by the end of the day, I've lost them. Good stuff too. A-list shit, not like the drivel I'm writing now. What did I write about the other day? TEETH, yeah that's it TEETH. who writes about teeth anymore, It's not hip and edgy, nor witty and insightful, but noooo, I have to write about teeth.

I need some new material.

I need to drink and tell you the results.


  1. I've got a more graceful solution to the memory problem.

    Dude. Write a single word on the back of your palm. Works for my memory, so maybe it'll remind you of the cool things as well.

    I'm not even suggesting that the stuff in my blog(s) isn't total shit, but it's there.

    But don't feel pressured to perform, dude; just write when it comes. I'm lucky: I have a computer at work and a blogger window open the whole time. Just .. um .. nothing happens in my life.

  2. Yes sensi, I will endevor to follow your blogging ways, though the path be long and treacherous.

    Wish I had a computer in thedairy section... milk and porn!