[Previous: "'Liberated' To Death."] [Main Index] [Next: "Shout At The Devil, Or At Least Lou Dobbs."]
|
03/21/2003 Entry: "Friend Only To The Undertaker, Or Something." OK, I'm determined to post something non-political today. If nothing else, I have to do something to get that Edwin Starr song out of my head, which has been on permanent repeat since Monday. (Actually—and I don't know if this makes it better or worse—but the version that I know best is by Frankie Goes to Hollywood.) I think my cold has segued directly into allergies, as I have not stopped sneezing and dripping since sometime midday yesterday. While it's nice to no longer be playing "What color is my mucus today?" I think I will have to give in and ride the Claritin pony. Just last week the Boyfriend was saying, as if psychically submitting it to the LazyWeb, that he'd like an application that made playing whole albums easier in iTunes. Bingo, here comes Clutter. Me, I just like seeing the album covers. (Link via Tom and Mark.) Getting back on the Blogging Wagon is a good thing, though to overextend the metaphor, I'm beginning to wonder which wagon I'm on, exactly. Nope, everything else I've got is old: The Random Personal Picture finder, The Old and New Testaments of the Bible translated into Polari, The 1974 Weight Watchers Recipe Cards, Chasm, a rather involved little flash game. All dusty and tired. Tomorrow we're going to look at some art, get my hair cut, and meet some new friends. So it's all going pretty well, as life in Wartime goes. [Humming]..."Absolutely nothing...say it aga—D'Oh!"
Replies: One Comment A good metaphor is refreshing like taking off your gas mask on a sunny day to smell the similes. Happy for you your sinuses are better. Posted by Panchesco @ 03/23/2003 07:57 AM PST |