Saturday, May 11, 2013


I have written well over a million words.  They all sit, cluttered in a heap of nonsensical gibberish on my flash drive.

Funny, I don't think the flash ever drove.

Of these million words, I can not find the first one that I like.

Not a single one.

I'm one of those language is a barrier moods, and as we've learned throughout all of this living stuff, there is no arguing with a mood.

So what it boils down to is a dirty pan and burnt sauce.   I was never very good at reductions anyway.

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