don't read this entry;
read th one before it, which goes like
http://lostcosmonaut.livejournal.com/2007/11/12/ This spiderbite or whatever it is on my left leg has taken an extra-long time going away: five months + counting
Finally ah started putting Neosporin on it so now it's draining
Jackie said it's a tiny vagina on my leg
Ah keep daydreaming about taking a scalpel to it or hiring a doctor to scalpel it
Am ah normal? This wound has been here since this summer in New Orleans; if it were a radioactive spiderbite wouldn't ah be dead by now?
It's snowing here now; ah got to drive to work in snow
Zometimez when ah ain't get enough sleep, ah begin to think it's only conversation keep me alive, and ah'll toss and turn and beg heavens to talk to me in a normal human voice
Yessiree
zleep deprivation can do zome cray-jee things; ah'll be all, "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, bro, talk to me, ah'll talk about anything anytime w/ anyone"
Den ah saw them commercials wherein modern businesspeople talk about talking about talking, and den th guy from th company that th commercial's about--ah forget what company--is all, "Hey, fuck talking, whatever happened to DOING, BRO"
and ah'm all, yeah, no, THAT GUY know what it's about
I don't know what it's about, THAT GUY knows what it's about
Never
th
less,
ah do miss talking like in th old daze, somethin' fierce
when time was worth le$$ but was appreciated all th same
Sean Taylor, in th movies nobody dies from getting shot in th leg. THINK
and we figured out everyone would look better in leather aviator helmets + flight goggles