slippery surface sagas of this space

i'd like to pose a query, a querrrry.

hey remember when ashleeeeeeeeEE simpson fucked up on snl? remember that dance she did before she walked off? like a jolly old chimney sweep type dance (aft'noon guvnah! mmmm, guvnah...), kicking her spindly long awkward teenager legs out side to side and punching her fisted hands down. hahaha. i'm totally doing that right now.

oddly, i am not drunk. i have been writing and writing and writing and writing so much that i think i may have actually mastered astral projection 'cause i could swear i was in perth tonight.

oh for the days when i had nothing to do, and i could devote each and every day to writing, writing, writing. but roxy rolls needs his walks and his dinner and he's got to have mommy time, hit the iron bed frame and he goes berserk, he woofs and goes to find the closest toy to show off his predatory skills. then there are the 40 trips to the mailbox, cause i haven't figured out exactly when it comes and i'd even resign myself to sitting in the lobby, waiting for the postman to find out, but i also have le work, le becky, le phones (all 6 lines), le faxes, les emails.

look at this face:



i take back my wish for the days when i had nothing to do. i love my life.

evenin' guvnahs!

posted by Courtney at 3:16 a.m.

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