Sunday, July 22, 2007

When you believe in things
That you don't understand
Then you suffer

I am getting tired of this format.

(I try to do something interesting on the weekend, take some pictures, and then tell you what I did.)

Let's just assume I did something cool. Because I did.

((5 pound beef tenderloin, marinated for 36 hours, corn, soaked, then grilled it in the husk, guitar, a new song, friends. Also, there were cracked peppercorns.))

The floor creaked underneath her. The shades were drawn. She opened the cupboard and grabbed box.

Her breath was labored.

Greedy fingers tore at the cheap aluminum foil.

Later, she would eat the chocolate lodged under her fingernails.

^^That is pretty badass. Stevie Wonder = Jesus. Except blind and black. And with a whole lot of funk. And instead of disciples, there was a shit-hot band with mustaches, afros, medallions, killer horns, little kids rocking out and Stevie Wonder, with lightning bolts shooting out of his fingers ... on Sesame Street. Check it. If it doesn't move you, well, there's something wrong. Sesame Street, dude. Sesame Street.

(((Hi, Tony. I miss you.)))

Nostrils twitch.

Ears perked.

Ready to pounce.

Ready to pounce.