My OperaBike Ride?
Wednesday, July 26, 2006 5:26:42 PM
It is now 11:50 in the AM, Central Standard Time. I need to get off my ass and go to work. I've got to patch a few holes on a house. It's kind of like cosmetic surgery except that you’re using chemicals that burn your hands 30 feet in the air. I desperately need to write a cover letter for my resume as well, but there is this voice that whispers to me from within in a slightly Spanish accent:
"Easy there big fella....you work too much...all you need is enough for rent, bills, a little bit of food, and a couple of beers.....what about that new shadow box your workin' on or the glass harp....Didn't you want to start workin' on that album? You know, the one that doesn't consist of just you, a bottle of Jameson, and a beat up twelve string? Let's go for a bike ride!"
Aargh! This guy is starting to make sense. Fuck it. I need to go to work. After that, I'll come home, write a cover letter, and then we'll go for a bike ride. MMMKAY?
"(sigh) OK...."[/FONT][/I]
"Easy there big fella....you work too much...all you need is enough for rent, bills, a little bit of food, and a couple of beers.....what about that new shadow box your workin' on or the glass harp....Didn't you want to start workin' on that album? You know, the one that doesn't consist of just you, a bottle of Jameson, and a beat up twelve string? Let's go for a bike ride!"
Aargh! This guy is starting to make sense. Fuck it. I need to go to work. After that, I'll come home, write a cover letter, and then we'll go for a bike ride. MMMKAY?
"(sigh) OK...."[/FONT][/I]
