The Unswung Bat

Tuesday, September 14, 2004
 
Rumors of my Death
Have been tremendously exaggerated.

Alive, kickin, and fully accounted for not to mention stocked with stories.

Those'll have to wait, but here's a very basic sketch.

Wandering in Paris
Lost in Budapest
Dug in Hungary
Driving through Romania
Meeting Andra's Family
Mountain Climbing
Fog, No Fog, and one hell of a View
Mountain People Are Cool
Angry Fucking Hellhound
A Very Old Taxi
The Ice Storm


And that's only the first half. But I'm tired now. I started writing "rest assured" just now, but I stopped halfway through to look at something over there, and when I looked back it read "rest ass." Regardless, I got plenty to say and more stories a'coming in the coming days and months, but now it's time for sleep, with a bloodshot and ever-watchful eye on the evil red digits of my alarm clock that tick away the minutes between me and my wakeup call for the day.

I'm taking a poetry class; that sentence above consists mainly of trochaic feet, which is why it sounds kind of ugly.

Ug. That finishes me off for now.



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