Monday, May 16, 2005

The Curse of the Hotel Yorba shin splints, because it made me run faster and harder than I ever should have, sprinting and leaping about like an uncoordinated and doughy-white Perdita Felicien-wanna be. I was even slapping my legs and stomach for percussion as I ran, leaped, and sprinted, (just to help flesh out the image for you).

Music has power.

And I have no shame or common sense.


At May 17, 2005 12:03 p.m., Anonymous Mary Douglas said...

You know, I had a dream with you in it the other night where we were careening about in your little red car and you were convinced that you could drive it down the escalator in the Bay at the Rideau Centre. 'Come on, you fuckers, out of my way! I can make it, I can make it!' you shouted as you rammed the car between the railings. 'Uhmm,' I said mildly, 'perhaps we should go down the stairs?'

At May 18, 2005 1:17 p.m., Blogger banjeroo said...

You know, I had a dream the other night where the ceiling was bleeding. BLEEDING.

Did you want me to take the car down the stairs? I would, you know.


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