Sunday, August 30, 2009

I don't remember.

I don't remember what I was going to write. This page took too long to load. Perhaps writing will come to me later. Maybe I after I get up and go to the door. Or something like that.

Sunday, August 16, 2009

well'd out of my senses. Is there any room for cleverness at the bottom of a well? Murakami slipped us into one and took us places.

But he never talked about how sweaty things can get.

Kill the wheat to make my bread.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

I can harvest the brains of everyone who wants to speak and listen, or I can just stay silent. Everything that needs to be said doesn't need to be said at all. It is only the things that need no mention that we should mention. The things we should say are important enough to left unsaid.


As a human I know what you have to say.

My Bike's name is time. Boy does he fly when I'm having fun.

I killed a man with my bike this morning. I didn't catch his name, but I think he was a spokesperson of some kind.

Saturday, August 8, 2009

I'm just a baker. I like pastries in my belly and flour on my schnoz.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Giant women are not sexually attractive. (As in the size of skyscrapers) Because when it comes down to it, although they may be proportionate in scale to the sultry ladies of today's current attractions, their vaginas are way too big!