One less day to wait
My Gyddie-Up will get here tomorrow. It makes me shake with excitement and I have become impossible to deal with at work. The world is coming to a head around me and I can only wait, hours slip by with the silky expectation of a grace that really should only be granted by an organization on a par with the Vatican rather then Continental Airlines, who is bringing me my relief in less than a day.
The 4th of July was nice, Arnold Kemp attended the Ridgefield Parade with me and then invited me along to friends of his for a brief but great bar-b-que. Oh and before I forget, Johnny Depp should never have made Public Enemy. It was terrible, Bale is made of sawdust and should not be allowed to act. Michael Mann is not invited to Christmas and I want my money back.
Colson Whitehead has a new book out “Sag Harbor” twenty three pages in, it may be my new favorite. The book chronicles Summer, which is parallel to my life, which also chronicles Summer, even in the winter. By fact I am moving to Summer, in the form of Santa Barbara where I have been assured it remains Summer even when the calendar disagrees. And yes that is a capitol ess on the front of my season. It deserves nothing less, and neither do you, so lets keep those capitols coming.
God Save the ones in bathing suits, and the corn on the cob, and long long moments underwater when you aren’t sure if you are going to make it back, and God Save the person who invented making out, cause we would have a whole lot less unemployment if we all remembered that the point is, and always has been, to get her to touch you.
The 4th of July was nice, Arnold Kemp attended the Ridgefield Parade with me and then invited me along to friends of his for a brief but great bar-b-que. Oh and before I forget, Johnny Depp should never have made Public Enemy. It was terrible, Bale is made of sawdust and should not be allowed to act. Michael Mann is not invited to Christmas and I want my money back.
Colson Whitehead has a new book out “Sag Harbor” twenty three pages in, it may be my new favorite. The book chronicles Summer, which is parallel to my life, which also chronicles Summer, even in the winter. By fact I am moving to Summer, in the form of Santa Barbara where I have been assured it remains Summer even when the calendar disagrees. And yes that is a capitol ess on the front of my season. It deserves nothing less, and neither do you, so lets keep those capitols coming.
God Save the ones in bathing suits, and the corn on the cob, and long long moments underwater when you aren’t sure if you are going to make it back, and God Save the person who invented making out, cause we would have a whole lot less unemployment if we all remembered that the point is, and always has been, to get her to touch you.
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