One afternoon at a bus stop in Ruston, Louisiana we picked up a single passenger, a huge man in a dirty plaid shirt, grease-stained khakis, and unlaced boots covered in mud.
I’ve been reading an obituary
The lonely gannet of Mana Island
Who fell in love
With a concrete statue
Love is complicated. Courtesy is simple. Start with courtesy.
Yesterday afternoon when I got home from the hospital and booted my computer, I was overwhelmed by the thousands of people who sent me messages of love and encouragement after my recent health scare.
Michael Simms: A True Story of How I Almost Became a Rock and Roll God (with special appearance by Iron Butterfly)
So there I was, jumping up and down on a king-sized bed in an expensive hotel in Miami Beach, drinking rum straight from the bottle. And right beside me, jumping up and down, playing the air-guitar and blasting out his famous song In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida, was Doug Ingle.
Oh, sleep forever in the Latmian cave,
Mortal Endymion, darling of the Moon!
The woman took a small knife out of her apron pocket and held the blade to the goat’s throat. Do you want to be responsible? What’s twenty pulas to you? You are a rich American and this is just a poor Botswana goat. Have you no heart?
Re-arrange your sock drawer in a way that pleases your socks. Remember, it’s not always about you!
Read what I wrote yesterday — hate it. Read what Sam wrote yesterday — love it. Hate Sam. Think about 45-year friendship with Sam. Remember him stealing my girlfriend in college. No, wait that was me — I married her….