Monday, June 18, 2007
Autobiography: Part One
Today after smoking one cigarette, which I occasionally do because it makes me want to hurl and thus lends urgency to my mind, I decided I might want to call my book Ruin Me with Touching Like Those Cave Paintings, Or Did People Just Breathe on Them, but ultimately decided against it. I almost did hurl this time, actually, but I willed myself to keep the hurl down, because I had made some potato soup earlier--in JUNE, in FLORIDA, I am demented--and I was determined not to throw up something homemade.
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2 comments:
In Arizona, temps threatening 110, and I'm craving soup, stew, anything homemade and savory and cooked for a long time and hot, heat hot, temperature hot, approaching 375K hot.
I'm settling for a nice, cool, banana
I'm so glad I'm not the only one! Soups make me feel so primordial, like a amoeba splashing in a hot broth of personhood.
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