Shoooeeeee. You guys. I went to Craigslist searching for a job working on a phone sex line and ended up applying for several freelance writing jobs. Yeah, I can see how the two are related. We'll see what happens with that. At this point my job search is pretty much in the spaghetti category. Fling it against the wall and hope something sticks.
Everything else gets scooped up and covered in sauce.
Anyway. Today's a day for some other kinds of research and for fulfilling promises made. Before I go, I must ask - Did you watch the comedy on MSNBC last night? Such a hot mess. More hair! Less brains! Execution applause lines! Fuck y'all. What have we devolved back into? I didn't even watch the debate. MathMan was watching the Phillies play somebody and I was reading my Twitter feed and screaming with laughter. At one point Nate popped into the room to make sure I was okay.
And tonight? I'm fully prepared to be underwhelmed. It seems we're a nation incapable of big ideas, bold plans. Unless, of course, big ideas and bold plans include blowing the holy fuck out of brown people. Then we're aces.
Maybe if the phone sex thing doesn't work out, I'll consider the military. Specifically and more lucrative, a job with a military contractor. They need housekeepers, yes?
Oy, let's shift gears. The real world brings me down. Today is a day for art. You know, when everything else seems like it's sliding into the fuckpile (mmm fuckpile), at least we still have art. Thank somebody's god for that saving grace.
Right then. Here's where I will be when I'm not working on my own manuscript.
Book by Kevin Edwards
Poetry by Hafiz
Visuals for inspiration
This song by Gillian Welch (hell, her whole discography if I'm being straight with you) with David Rawlings who appears to be an underappreciated guitar god. I know. I'm late to this one. Yow - Za.
Where are you escaping to these days?