LSU MFA Clearinghouse filled with acres of Quality Control officers and bleary-eyed slackers.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Porpoises
Why a stupid blog? Ooh, I like this font. Anyway, for those of us scattered to the winds this summer, here's a techno-savvy way to keep up/prod/harangue each other for the next couple of months. Welcome to 2008, suckas.
milliseconds bulge and ooze, friend. i have nothing to do. the summer swims around me in an endless sea of unfilled hours. but i have given myself things to do. yes, i have read the entire oeuvre of bret easton ellis, which you can laugh about, but i myself am a suffering sucker for a psychopath. i've read a lot of other things, too, and if you want to know what they are then you can ask. i'm having a writing problem. graphophobia. ick. i am doomed only to respond. i have moved some verbs around in things i have written, but am terrified to proceed. i fantasize constantly about a middle-aged, middle-class, middle-browed housewife who steals babies. she needs to sell them for expensive handbags. and then i take bike rides and admire all our abandoned architecture (http://abandonedbatonrouge.typepad.com/abandoned_baton_rouge/). and i have found a building that is perfect. it's downtown and about to make way for condos. a disaster site begging to have its ceiling draped in satin for the premier of lucian tyro. other than that, i am feeling really fucking angry about pete wentz right now and wishing that there was a fresh spring of bourbon bubbling in my backyard.
3 comments:
milliseconds bulge and ooze, friend. i have nothing to do. the summer swims around me in an endless sea of unfilled hours. but i have given myself things to do. yes, i have read the entire oeuvre of bret easton ellis, which you can laugh about, but i myself am a suffering sucker for a psychopath. i've read a lot of other things, too, and if you want to know what they are then you can ask. i'm having a writing problem. graphophobia. ick. i am doomed only to respond. i have moved some verbs around in things i have written, but am terrified to proceed. i fantasize constantly about a middle-aged, middle-class, middle-browed housewife who steals babies. she needs to sell them for expensive handbags. and then i take bike rides and admire all our abandoned architecture (http://abandonedbatonrouge.typepad.com/abandoned_baton_rouge/). and i have found a building that is perfect. it's downtown and about to make way for condos. a disaster site begging to have its ceiling draped in satin for the premier of lucian tyro. other than that, i am feeling really fucking angry about pete wentz right now and wishing that there was a fresh spring of bourbon bubbling in my backyard.
watching the cats sleep. trying to fix things that happened on the page or maybe just get out onto the page.
thinking about house five states away that one owns but does not yet inhabit.
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