An online journal of experiences traveling abroad.
Friday, January 28, 2005
Me, Mad, Autumn, Arno(birthday boy), Laurence, and Noémie
1 comment:
Anonymous
said...
murph:
sorry, man. takes me awhile. this is caya. you just look fabulous, very worldly, a true, true continental. i must congradulate you on the bosox. amazing, just amazing, soldier. not to jump on the bandwagon, but, well, ah, hell. they were just a hoot and a holler. sorry to take so long. i'm a shit. for some reason, i sure take my time with communication. but, maybe, just maybe, this will be a happy surprise. well, i didn't get into grad school, but, well, my heart wasn't in it. i guess i still have my antenae out there, feeling in the dark, but, now, at least, i got me some night vision goggles i found on ebay to see just exactly what's there, figuratively speaking, if you can possibly throw in ebay into figurative speaking. i'm a sad, sad english literature b.a.!!! i can do anything with language. like e.e., like pound, like gerald stern, like margaret atwood, i do as i please, yet without any body of work with which to hold any bragging rights. oh, well. i can fuck capitalization like a stuck pig. i can order an inside hit on the semicolon because, come on, who likes the semicolon?!?! maybe have the comma do it. she's a dependable little lady, all slick and sophisticated like a fine cabernet. but, ah, hell, forget about that little rant. you sure do look happy. you're surrounded by complete beauty. jason varitek is now the captain. things are looking up for you, my son. i'm proud of you. go and give 'em hell. you deserve all that you've had so far and more. how's jacob? i'm glad to hear that he's now speaking the language of the country that he's visiting. hell, the world's full of shits, some here, some there, some underneath your soiled underwear. but, ah, ah, there's lots of good out there, lots of good people. you look so happy with yours. i'd say god bless if i felt the blessings would suddenly appear, but, oh, as i have learned, you take your blessings with your damnations, your shit in your creme brule (that might be the spelling, but wtihout, of course, my keyboard's limited accent ague capabilties. we're still getting over that. the therapy sessions have been very beneficial, very cathartic. but, oh, she's a trooper, through and through, as she wonders why i ramble with personifications and nonsense. but, oooh , oooh, this little palimpsest we call life is just so much fun as we make it up as we go. you're doing a fine job. a thousand pardons for my inability to grasp the concept of brevity. it is my greatest sin. i gotta go. i think i need to shower. get my cocyx, will ya?
1 comment:
murph:
sorry, man. takes me awhile. this is caya. you just look fabulous, very worldly, a true, true continental. i must congradulate you on the bosox. amazing, just amazing, soldier. not to jump on the bandwagon, but, well, ah, hell. they were just a hoot and a holler. sorry to take so long. i'm a shit. for some reason, i sure take my time with communication. but, maybe, just maybe, this will be a happy surprise. well, i didn't get into grad school, but, well, my heart wasn't in it. i guess i still have my antenae out there, feeling in the dark, but, now, at least, i got me some night vision goggles i found on ebay to see just exactly what's there, figuratively speaking, if you can possibly throw in ebay into figurative speaking. i'm a sad, sad english literature b.a.!!! i can do anything with language. like e.e., like pound, like gerald stern, like margaret atwood, i do as i please, yet without any body of work with which to hold any bragging rights. oh, well. i can fuck capitalization like a stuck pig. i can order an inside hit on the semicolon because, come on, who likes the semicolon?!?! maybe have the comma do it. she's a dependable little lady, all slick and sophisticated like a fine cabernet. but, ah, hell, forget about that little rant. you sure do look happy. you're surrounded by complete beauty. jason varitek is now the captain. things are looking up for you, my son. i'm proud of you. go and give 'em hell. you deserve all that you've had so far and more. how's jacob? i'm glad to hear that he's now speaking the language of the country that he's visiting. hell, the world's full of shits, some here, some there, some underneath your soiled underwear. but, ah, ah, there's lots of good out there, lots of good people. you look so happy with yours. i'd say god bless if i felt the blessings would suddenly appear, but, oh, as i have learned, you take your blessings with your damnations, your shit in your creme brule (that might be the spelling, but wtihout, of course, my keyboard's limited accent ague capabilties. we're still getting over that. the therapy sessions have been very beneficial, very cathartic. but, oh, she's a trooper, through and through, as she wonders why i ramble with personifications and nonsense. but, oooh , oooh, this little palimpsest we call life is just so much fun as we make it up as we go. you're doing a fine job. a thousand pardons for my inability to grasp the concept of brevity. it is my greatest sin. i gotta go. i think i need to shower. get my cocyx, will ya?
-caya
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