The blah-g is mess-ville love tribe. Our loyal cult affiliates likely noticed the new template. I’ve used this one before, it seems like a reasonable band-aid. I’ve done about 1,100 posts. The terms “category” and “tag” are very loose in these parts.
Last night I was looking at various pretty blogs. While I like how mine has the appearance of an old scrapbook, covered in coffee stains with favorite pages dog-eared – I need… I don’t know. Order? Continue reading
So I returned to New York City today after a weekend of writing in the country. I was greeted by cult members who painted my afternoon with things like triple olive, dirty vodka martinis and cigars on my balcony.
Consequently, I napped around 6pm… that happened.
Viva public holidays!
Never the less, I awoke at midnight, wandered Peanut around 9th avenue, bought a cherry coke and came back to my apartment with one major thought:
Graveyard Train. Continue reading
Sometimes I write those too… well, I did while I was in Australia. Maybe again down the line. Chapter One from I’m going where it snows. A story about a little boy in a hot Aussie climate who just wants some relief from the sweltering heat.
Mum and Dad refuse to buy an air-conditioner.
“Billy,” my Dad begins while I watch his bushy, blonde moustache wiggle back and forth. It’s too hot to move, and the sweat dripping down my body has me pasted to our leather couch. I can’t get away.
“Heat toughens you up, you should be thankful,” Dad continues. “Don’t you wanna be tough? You’re lucky to be one of the rare people on the planet who can survive in a climate like this. Sunny Queensland my boy!”
“But I’m dying,” I protest with a restless shift of my slumped body. I do this every few seconds to peel my sweaty legs away from the sticky material beneath me. “Why can’t we get an air-conditioner?” Continue reading
Some of you may have heard about Hurricane Sandy that is coming to blow us all off the northern seaboard in a rapidly approaching time.
I say horse pucky.
I saw some live time cyclones while I was living in Australia. For example, I was living in Brisbane when a storm ripped through a suburb totaling a block of houses with nothing but a few piles of wood in its wake.
I was living in Melbourne when the 2011 Brisbane floods devastated the nation. I realize Sandy might whip some winds through and rattle a few telephone poles… but I don’t think the entire island group that is New York City will be submerged in impossible pools of sky water.
Maybe I’m just an optimist.
The U.S. media is hilarious over the weather. If they reported on issues like world hunger and women’s rights with just as much passion, it would be a dramatically different country. The economy would crash from the drop of bottled water and flashlight sales.
From the looks of it I have a few coming days of rainy weather writing which I enjoy immensely. Tea with grey skies and petrichor letters spilling on a page.
I might even purchase a desk this weekend… that’s how unconcerned I am about Sandy smashing through and destroying life as we know it.