| Rowan Lipkovits ( @ 2007-10-15 15:38:00 |
pesky sequence
How on earth am I supposed to promote 57 Varieties tomorrow when I still haven't gotten my head together enough to recount my exploits and tall tales from Portland? Maybe I should just dictate accounts as they happen to me (not necessarily the buzz-killer one might expect in the bedroom, I recall Dan Savage confiding that blow-by-blow running narration is the soul of talking dirty) and leave the fragments for my biographers to assemble.
I, uh, was intending to say something about the tendency to enshrine past positive experiences (ohh, Mistigris; ohh, my first girlfriend; ohh, the Sugar Refinery; ohh, the Living Closet) to the exclusion of potential future ones, but somewhere along the line I got derailed by obligatory blue wordplay. It happens like that more often than not! Maybe someday I'll start a paper journal and actually fully express a complete thought without interrupting myself with purportedly entertaining parenthetical asides for a supposed audience. (Shortly after my prosthetic hands are installed, winces the scrivener.)
How on earth am I supposed to promote 57 Varieties tomorrow when I still haven't gotten my head together enough to recount my exploits and tall tales from Portland? Maybe I should just dictate accounts as they happen to me (not necessarily the buzz-killer one might expect in the bedroom, I recall Dan Savage confiding that blow-by-blow running narration is the soul of talking dirty) and leave the fragments for my biographers to assemble.
I, uh, was intending to say something about the tendency to enshrine past positive experiences (ohh, Mistigris; ohh, my first girlfriend; ohh, the Sugar Refinery; ohh, the Living Closet) to the exclusion of potential future ones, but somewhere along the line I got derailed by obligatory blue wordplay. It happens like that more often than not! Maybe someday I'll start a paper journal and actually fully express a complete thought without interrupting myself with purportedly entertaining parenthetical asides for a supposed audience. (Shortly after my prosthetic hands are installed, winces the scrivener.)