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2:11 p.m. - 2003-03-11
I hate my muse A muse is suppose to sit by you and whisper ideas into your ear. To lay with you during the night and fill you head with views of wondrous unseen worlds. And when you finally sit down to put pen to paper / finger to key / brush to stroke, she�s with you guiding you along the way. But not mine. Nope, mine just sneaks up to from my periphery, b1tch-slaps me across the face with an idea and a sharp heavy ring. Then giggles and scampers off around the corner and out of sight. Yeah thanks a lot� now I got this idea, I�ll never be able to do anything with. Maybe I should learn Judo or something, so that the next time my muse jumps me I can take her down, break out the duct-tape and keep her around. Today�s Lesson -The definition of �Spam� and definition of �Weed� are vastly similar. -An infinite number of monkeys with an infinite number of typewriters, would fling a lot of poo. -Using a ball of silly putty to symbolically represent your soul can lead to surprisingly accurate results. Take care, -Fritz It�s been cool - 2005-05-18 If you happen to have a surplus of funds, please feel free to buy something for little old me off my Wish list. You will earn my undying love and gratitude. ;) |
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