Stutter-Butter Tastes Better

It's been forever since I've put any time in on the internets. I guess you could accuse me of not GIVING A DAMN!

Yeah.

Bitter, angry, moody, general piss-ed-off-ish-ness floating round today like a quick drink of water. Where do I want to eat tonight? Probably a restaurant, probably by myself. Fiesty doesn't go well with others.

Two weeks till I leave the Wisco for a week and then it'll be three weeks and I'll be back here sitting in this office that reeks of smoke, feeling bored/angry/malaise. Crack a bottle. Crack a grin across your back.

I have been writing though, not here, not at the other one (decanterbury tales) but I've been scribbling words on paper in my free time and then transmogifying them into files that I can print out and edit and edit. I found an interesting Buh-cow-ski quip, something about how reading your own writing shouldn't bore you because if it does, you can be sure that it will be boring to others who read it. (subtext: why are you still reading my blog?)

That said, I'm still kicking around the idea of putting together a self-published chapbook. Not a huge run, available by request, madcap poetry (if you dare call it that) more words slapped together like spaghetti noodles and broken glass, called art in the name of all that is literalarily holy.

Ugh.

Stumbled onto a site that I'm not going to link to that reminded me of a nightmare I once had. That's really what's kicking me in the nuts right now.

Three weeks, pictures, maybe not here, link to pictures from an excursion... we'll see.

Keep faith and all... yeah yeah yeah./