Thursday, April 24, 2008

I think my job is trying to kill me.

Literally-I may have broken my toe today, and I have never been subject to so many injuries, indignities and simple assaults on my psyche. It's like one big attempted murder that's cutting my paychecks.

I speak the language of muffins. I know their poetry...and their prose.

2 comments:

epiphenita said...

no shit, you speak the language of muffins?

I speak the language of shortbread!

we should put together an anthology.

sigmund jones said...

that job attempts to kill everyone, duhhh.

you missed out last night. good conversation and beer-a-plenty.

hope your toe feels better mister.