"I like poems, but not weird poems, you know?"

"...ohhh - that's a nice phone, though. [...] If you don't mind me asking, is it better?"

quiet


"Bless you!"

"One hundred dollar question. Which of these states has no Pacific coast line?"

"National Running Associaton?"

Earlier today, Javas sold me a day-old bagel. It was very hard. It was quiet in Javas. The workers moved slowly. The clock was thirty minutes slow. I also bought a banana.


In 1961 Piero Manzoni canned and sold his own shit 90 times.

Help me help you!

Please.

if you please,

here it is! Again again again again again...! ...A BLOG!
Until now I had played Bartleby - "I would prefer not to," to, to... to blog! To post my whats, whens, wheres and hows for no one or everyone or anyone.

I'll post photographs. Or I will post nothing. Or I will post words, erratically strung together like lumpy pieces of stale pop-Pop-POP-*POPCORN!* on a string!

These hundreds of thousands of strings of ones and zeros strung together, spun around themselves into threads, woven into sheets, sewn around lumpy cotton imagination into some several-dimensional space and this is my blog. This is just mine, just one of the [insert broad, vaguely researched, hyperbolic, yet still potentially convincing qualifier here] [OR according to December 2007 Technorati blog search engine estimate, 112 million*] blogs on the internet.
So who could possibly be interested in reading this one?