I turn another year older, book a house in a tiny coastal village, run myself ragged organizing myself a fun time and then suffer some sort of exhaustion meltdown before, during or after the festivities. Woohoo!

Remember the times we talked past midnight? Now it's just me and the black dog. You're in exile. I live in a wind tunnel that bends light and time. And the black dog sits in the corner and snarls.

The Machinations of Life have defeated me this Tuesday; so for today I will remove some apparent dross and try a simpler approach.

1. To perve is man!
2. No crumbs in the butter please
3. Dog is god spelt badly

Straight from the burning bush I will now give these a run. I am not quite ready to chisel them in stone as I am sure I have missed a worthy premise or two.

So this goverment wants to put restrictions on the media, what the hell for...when they being fighting for democracy for so many years, is it maybe because they got something to hide.

In todays age with the Internet, they can forget it, they bring it on themselves anyway with all their spindoctors bullshit.

At least we got this site, where nothing is sacred.

Just in case you're lurking again, have a super glorious, wonderful day, old duck!!

But they haven't written anything yet, strange.... I wonder who's the naked blogger, must be a ( un spoken word ) :)

Since June 17 i had bad luck... some thieves stole cables, which resulted in having a power surge which destroyed my tv, computer, dvd player. So Ladies and Gentlmen, the leaf is back in town.

A big HOWZIT.

I am the one you hate, the man that destroys realationships the one who influences others into orgys of sex and violence and narcotic abuse best beware because i will destroy your childrens innocence, thats me full on phsycotic drug fiend , get real im a 23 year old crappy writer who has problems i write them out my thoughts dreams failures expectations, take the time to find out who i am you migh

Monsoon wind fuels the flames in the fireplace,
and the curtains are blooming like wild flowers in spring
(with a full moon shining center stage, of course,
and feeding silver pollen to vampire butterflies
that hide in the roof beams.)

Red wine brings out the glow of new love in her eyes,
under which bags filled with lust sag with each sip of Merlot,

If I had a choice to kill destroy or maim I would love to cause pain
In the central part of the lame game they call fame I hope it’s not a shame when you fly across the room
Boom motherfucker
Just wondering if you are listening, to lead pencils shoved into your eyes
Fed up with all the lies and the shit that’s stuck up in my bed
This shit is too heavy my heart is breaking like a levy

“What excites you,” he asked. “Where is your passion.”

Okay, maybe that's just the adrenalin talking.

well i been kissed by death and im still here. fuck YEAH...
WTF been happening . anyone wanna fill me in ?

Am I that easy to disregard if I knew I could honestly say we spoke about the father the son and the holy ghost maybe I should fade\away from your life give you peace I will carry this box until my death locked away all my dreams trying to hold on tight to the burning fire in my heart there I go combustion of my soul my blood is ice in my veins you stole from my lips the words that meant everythin

It felt like an eternity before Janine hit the ground; in mid-air the world twisted and turned like elephant trunk muscles, and there was an angry silence ringing in her ears. The world flashed white when her left hip (and arm, bent awkwardly behind her back), made contact with the shoulder of the dirt road.

A speech by Michael Crichton which is exactly where I stand on this global warming bullshit. Except of course, he is smarter than me and says it better:

“Jump on Shady’s dick…”

Things I've remembered from my childhood and what it's like to suddenly be my own boss and a couple of salient points I think I missed along the way.

waking up in another body
this is not me , i dont feel my mind is attached to the right soul,
ripped apart and thrown into the warp slammed into nothing.
Swirling flailing seeing nothing , feeling a part of everything.
Holes through light , drifting slowly
in the ether .

If our office was a model it would be Jodie Kidd.

He carried on pacing ...
Where the devil was she? She knew his state of mind, but still, she had to go pull one of her disappearences, didn't she? Was a 'nite' too much to ask?
Evidently.
There was only one thing for it. He'd have to get in the car, and drive past. He may not have his sms, but at least he could get his dark house and his solid red house alarm light.