Still no word back from either my investing friend or on my EOF application. Unfortunately, I don't have any antics to report from this morning, as I have spent the past half day talking to my dad for two hours (in the middle of the night, a surreal experience) and then, after making myself blackened zuchhini (and getting a mildly annoying oil burn) and opening a beer, watching part one of "An Evening with Kevin Smith," a movie I am happy to report is funny as hell. Meanwhile, my mom is moving to Florida putting my visit to the Empire State in jeopardy (which is to say - fuck it, I don't have anything to do in NYC anyway) meaning I will have spent an entire summer in College Park doing nothing but drinking, playing a lot of poker, and writing occaisionally. I am now fifty pages in to what began as a short story, but has quickly devolved into a diadactic piece of shit. But, as you may have been able to tell from the absolutely abominable (I have a hauntingly strong urge to attach "snowman" every time I use that word. Luckily, I can avoid it by putting this editorial note) quality of work posted to this lovely site, I don't exactly write to an audience. cranked out at 6:58 AM | |
|
template © elementopia 2003 |
![]() |