Miguel: Do you ever feel like just living in a hole in the ground, and just eating the worms that crawl through the walls?
Alpha: Do you want milk in your coffee?
Miguel: With like a section of plywood for a roof, and when you want light you just slide it back a crack?
Alpha: This song on the radio…
Miguel: Lenny Kravitz…
Alpha: Is that… what is that, is that rhumba? Foxtrot?
Miguel: You know, they stick their heads through the wall or whatever they have and you just yank one out and eat it.
Alpha: Rhumba, how’s that go? Long-short-long-short? Is that the one where you go around in a box?
Miguel: You could bring me a cup of tea at night before bed.

Mike needs to be famous… and fast.

The river was high, it was the Amazon and a flooding Danube at the same time. And the boat was both a native Amazonian canoe, a long one out of some documentary, and a racing shell, low in the water. It was propelled by an African guy, only he had no oar or paddle in his hands. He sat up front. There was also another guy, a white guy, some movie star, that guy, what was his name? Not Kevin Spacey. Wearing documentary guy explorer gear, hat and vest. Then he was me, and I was in the water swimming for shore next to a lioness also swimming for shore. She was a good swimmer. I took her paw to help her along and felt her large claws. I helped her to shore and waited a while for her to take off and disappear into the jungle and floated a little downstream just to be on the safe side before climbing out myself.

I was very flexible in the dream, and when I woke up my back was a lot better.

But now I have to figure out how to fit a lioness into the novel.

Ten useful hints for everyday grammar.

(For the person who just came her via the search for LADY’S OVER 30 PORN)

Gas gauge was at the point this morning where I debate with myself whether or not to fill the tank before heading to work. I drove by a station selling diesel for 0.679 euro/liter and decided to fill it up – that’s the cheapest it’s been in a long time, I assume because weapons inspectors have been dispatched to Iraq and the war clock got turned back a couple minutes.

Traffic was light so I got to work early enough to write a post for Raising Hell about Gamma losing her glasses. Since then I’ve been busy, busy, busy. Work-style busy.

The novel’s making slightly more sense, Kundali Ballroom or not, mail me if you’re interested in looking at it.

Look, if you happen to be little, or old: I’m not making fun of you here.
Just this one guy.

Continue reading →

I was tying a knot on Saturday and ever since have been wondering about who invented the knot. That must have been a major technological breakthrough at the time.