The chewing gum painter has finished the cover art for Suburban Pastoral- it's brilliant! He painted it by the Courthouse in Normandy Avenue, and it's hands pushing a lawnmower on a stripey lawn.
I dreamed another song last night and sang it into my mobile phone at about 2:16 a.m.
What's there today? Durh, durh, durh, durh, durh! Some things only mean anything at the time; I should have learned by now that anything 'sung' at that time of night sounds like a dying washing-machine in the morning.
I'm in the library again and I'm hungry. As I write this, I'm trying to decide whether to have a Magnum Classic or go for something healthy like a smoothie. I could be greedy and have both but either the ice cream would melt while I drank the smoothie or the smoothie would get warm while I ate the ice cream. I wonder if George Bush worries about such things? I suspect he does, and it's all he thinks about. He certainly doesn't consider anything else.
No comments:
Post a Comment