Monday, May 29, 2017

Speaking of amazing covers

When I lay down at night I get a rush of cool ideas for the next day's dribble. Then I wake and I cannot remember fuck all about those ideas.

I was just reading about the stabbing victims in Portland. The ones who stood up to the ugly man on the train.

If all of us were more like them the ugly would slink back into their holes and stay there.

Instead, we elect ugly, we worship ugly, we live with fucking ugly all around us and usually look the other way.

I don't have a point. Or coffee.

Okay, I now have coffee but I am no closer to a point.

I keep staring at the picture above my desk trying to think of what to write next.

It just makes me miss my wife. She comes home today.

Also, I have a new duck that needs a space on the shelf.

I wish we were farther along than we are as a species. I guess that's my only point to any of this.

Titty sprinkles.

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