A place for my thoughts and ideas, my creative outlet, a little piece of the web for me to call my own...yeah...right...
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| a bite of chocolat... ::home:: A place for my thoughts and ideas, my creative outlet, a little piece of the web for me to call my own...yeah...right... |
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Friday, July 19, 2002 "Oooooooooooh, ahhhhhhhhhh..." And now I have a nice new template for you all to enjoy. But, alas, I'll be leaving for York Beach, Maine, tomorrow, so I may not be able to entertain you all, yet again, for about a week... but I'll be back soon enough... If I don't post any more before I go, I'll leave you with a few things I couldn't post whaile my old template was being disagreable... I was nosing through blogs for template ideas, and I came across a few interesting tid bits. shakejugsnotbabies.com This intriguingly named site held some cool quotage: "A good traveler has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving," -Lao Tzu "We go where we need to go, and then try to figure out what we're doing there," -Jeff Greenwald "People travel to far away places to watch in facination, the kind of people they ignore at home," -Dagbert D. Runes "If you wish to travel far and fast, travel light. Take off all your envies, jealousies, unforgiveness, selfishness, and fears," -Glenn Clark And here’s a little ditty I found while randomly clicking around, and I rather like it. [There’re a few places that seem like typos…but that’s how I found it, and I wouldn’t want to change it, since it isn’t mine…] Voici: "The Whiskey's Working Wonders / Craps Game of Life" I've been sitting in this chair for 3 hands past with thoughts ran through my mind, so fast I can't recall and my A.D.D. is definit It's the whiskey talking, I'm usually so soft spoken I can't even hear myself think With a finished portrait on an empty canvas of what once was yesterdays fantasy now a memory and it's fading faster as I peel the plaster from the lead infested walls of my mind And my mind is made up that I'm indefinitly confused and it's sad when that's the only thing you're sure of So I'll just lie in my plane, that can't get off the ground because I forgot it does'nt have any wings And I forgot that I recalled the pain my heart holds but I forgot again so it does'nt matter anyway This whiskey's working wonders as I wonder is this what my life's suppose to be? If a blind man can see than why in St. Jack can't I... And this empty bottle of bourbon is all my inpiration, with a full peice of paper that is missing all the words and a toast to Louie Armstrong, man that cat can blow... I wonder if he's related to that man on the moon from too long ago? And I left your finger trace that's up and down my face from your nicotiene stained finger tips... but I still beathe you in to my pan blackened lungs... if cancer eats your heart out, than what the hell is love? I guess love is a cancer, it infects and than it grows, No cure for this tumor as I inhale and I blow... So one more glass of poison and I'll be set to go, and delete the memories, atleast the ones I know And the sun sets in the west or... maybe it's the east, where I feast my eyes, your thighs to paradise... Like livin' in Las Vegas, with my fortune on the dice... Come on lucky 7 or maybe an 11... Hell I'll settle for a 10, it's close enough for me... Cause this whiskey's working wonders, players place your bets, One more glass of poison, As I light a cigerette... S. Stanley posted by Shannon | 12:34 AM |
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