Saturday, October 25, 2008



There is a wistfulness that transcends the onset of mania.
It is redolent with nostalgia and heady with the scents
Of what could not have and will not be.
Abstract in its aspect temporarily alien as a construct
It fails, perhaps productively, to manifest as regret.
There are paths we all must travel that weave and twine
Producing crossroads in the most inexplicable places,
But seldom, if ever, do they manage to arrive
At a common or synergistic destination.

Saturday, October 18, 2008


drinkin' 'n' scrawlin'

I lost my heart
And I lost my mind
Lost my sight
And I was blind
To everything
Reality could show.
Lost my place
And couldn’t see
I was barking
Up the wrong tree
And had chosen
The wrong road home.

Friday, October 17, 2008


And against all odds I continue to get the best email

Subject: The gayest thing printed in a sports column
From: the leeward side of England
To: various people whose brains I enjoy hurting… mostly in revenge

"Not that I don't feel like I'm part of the team, but when you get that nice celebration coming in the dugout and you're getting your ass hammered by guys, there's no better feeling than to have that done."


I love sports

Me too.

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