So, here I sit, at the computer--updating my journal...perusing the boards...looking at my fuzzy stupid face in my profile pic...I should be working on something, but what does it matter? The only thing I have ever had published is two poems in my college literary magazine in twenty years of writing.
Sitting in Starbucks today, working on the book--I seem to be going through the motions on it right now. And all the godamn Christmas music in the world playing. I don't give a fuck about Christmas anymore. It's just another trick to get you to rush out and buy things, just like everything else in this country. Sorry, I don't have a thing for sale. I guess it's time for me to leave.
And then, on the way up there, this stupid song starts coming to my head...don't know where this junk comes from
Who lives in a condo with three other guys?
Gay Bob butt cheeks
Looking at women don't give him a rise
Gay Bob butt cheeks
If man on man action is something you wish
Then drop on the bed and stick in your dick
Gay Bob butt cheeks
Gay Bob butt cheeks
Gay Boooob butt cheeks!
I'm sorry for that.
Sitting in Starbucks today, working on the book--I seem to be going through the motions on it right now. And all the godamn Christmas music in the world playing. I don't give a fuck about Christmas anymore. It's just another trick to get you to rush out and buy things, just like everything else in this country. Sorry, I don't have a thing for sale. I guess it's time for me to leave.
And then, on the way up there, this stupid song starts coming to my head...don't know where this junk comes from
Who lives in a condo with three other guys?
Gay Bob butt cheeks
Looking at women don't give him a rise
Gay Bob butt cheeks
If man on man action is something you wish
Then drop on the bed and stick in your dick
Gay Bob butt cheeks
Gay Bob butt cheeks
Gay Boooob butt cheeks!
I'm sorry for that.
leavemehere:
That's what you get for sitting in a Starbucks.