Those who get it will understand

It's no wonder that Scarlett is my favorite film character:

It is from this I get my strength, the red leaves of Autumn...

And remember, you'll never get away from me:

You're gonna see, you're gonna not at all get away from me. IMing, text messaging. Email, baby.

And I'm still a writer.

Watch out for my rocks, though. I'm gonna need all the help I can get.

Drunk!d

OH my, how flows the brain as it wastes an hour in past shadows! Rome atop a hill or seven, I wonder if there could ever be such an exotic and familiar villa. Roman blood in my veins? At least vulgar Italian blood, blood of pickpockets and Neapolitan thieves.

Better movie than The Godfather? Godfather Part II. I stand by it! "You can never lose your family." Is it a question? "You can never lose your family?" What if you do? Or is it a command: "You can NEVER lose your family" (or else)?


I take the cannoli and leave the gun! I keep my friends at arms length and my enemies in my back pocket! Hyman Roth was behind it all! Or was it Cicero and Brutus in the shrubbery on the Appian Way? I prefer John Milius's Antony to Shakespeare's. I prefer beer to wine. It is very unItalian of me. It is my British nature. My Potawatomi side wants whiskey. I'm not Russian but I like vodka martinis. I loathe rum when it is all alone, but still I dream of piracy. I have my pirate name and it is Mad Jenny Kidd! Arr!

(This was written on a used napkin):
That HBO show, Rome? Fucking awesome. And even better better when drunk. Like a time travel to brilliant. What does that even mean? I dunno. I'm wasted. Don't demand so much.


Paganicity.


I just made that up.


There's a giant stack of magazines on my television screen. And Frank Sinatra is next to them. I'm not lying! It's a really big stack. I don't know what it means, but it could either be ominous or exceptional. I vote exceptional. I'm an optimist like that. I hate to think the magazines are coming to destory our world, so I refuse to believe it. Sing me a song Frank! Don't let the world be a dreary place. The shower is for singing! Without a song, I would be buried under the gigantic stack of magazines!


What's your favorite song? That's like asking if I like steak instead of ice cream. I just stole that from The Chairman of the board. So sue me, sue me, what can you do me?


Brahms Piano Concerto no. 2 (Sarah)

Fingertips by They Might Be Giants (Kara?)


I'm not sure what my favorite song is. I'm not sure I have a favorite song. It's probably a Beatles song, if I could think coherently at this point. Lady Madonna. Rain. Total Eclipse of the Heart. No!

Mozart's Alleluia from Exsultate Jubilate (Me)

That's some highbrow shit right there. I'm feeling elite tonight.

Whatever happened to the backyard? (this is weak tea poetry)

Whatever happened to fireflies in my mustard? A picnic elegy.

Whatever happened to The White Album afterschool? A cloudy sundae.

Whatever happened to the Putt-Putt ticket sweepstakes? An orange ball hole-in-one.

Whatever happened to my wooden sword? An empty refrigerator box.

Whatever happened to a ghost-tag flashlight? Eaten by pixie stix.

Whatever happened to a dirt-rubbed ruler? Trapper Keeper.

Whatever happened to Arthur Pendragon's 20-sided dice? Rusted dragon teeth.

Whatever happened to banana slides? An October sunset.

Whatever happened to One-Eyed Willy's restaurant? Buried in my living room couch-fort.

Whatever happened to the candy bookstore? Not till after dinner.

Whatever happened to dog-eared Dragonlance paperbacks? Sitting in a moldy Elven knapsack.

Whatever happened to Mop Tops on cassette tapes? Mom's old station wagon.

Whatever happened to Englishmen in my Muppet forests? Finally on DVD.

Whatever happened to tracing paper airplanes? Eaten by evil cartoons.

Whatever happened to purple clouds in my yesterday? A two month haiku.

Whatever happened to the backyard? Rusted leaves fell. And came back to life.