A mess of small words and poor punctuation used to chronicle my life, and the boring things I do and sometimes a thought that usually sounds inspired when written, not read.
Monday, September 11, 2006
burned
i burned the word HOT on my hand on a powerwasher exhaust. ALWAYS trust that word.
I still live in clintonville, I try to finish a old bottle of bourbon in early winter, smoke my new Gandalf pipe, and read books. I will soon open a long awaited Port wine and play scrabble.
The person I love the most is my wife, and I like to flood my stomach with coffee.
2 comments:
what happened...in my opinion...your body has always been labeled hot...
you are on...
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