I played too long and stayed up late, the clock has just changed the date, I don't know what I can say, but to tell ya'll all it's another day. I know this post is naught but lame, and sadly I will bear the blame, but the time has come to get to bed, and let those dreams invade my head.
Ya'll remember in my last Blogging for Books submission where I claimed I never again wrote another poem ... I meant that to mean I was never ever again able to write a good poem. Pathetic poems, like that mess of moose poop above, continue to pop out of my head with no regularity of any kind.
A quick view of my navel shows the holes have still not closed. Bruising, likely a result of the actual act of piercing activity itself, is visible around its perimeter. It is not a pretty sight. End of report.
*and surely not worth a plug nickel.
Posted by Tiger at February 22, 2005 12:22 AM