xtcian

putrescent persiflage

1/9/04

I had a great blog topic tonight and Tessa made me forget it. So now she has to write the blog. I'm just taking dictation.
Here goes!

This is very much like Yeats' later period. When he took dictation from his recently-awoken wife – who had just come out of a dream - he thought he'd stumbled upon something genius, which he called "automatic writing" – when he attempted to capture her "pre-conscious psyche" and, on occasion, his own.
But his later period sucks, so I'm not sure this is a good way to go. Plus, you're sort of a slow typist.

What? You try and type as fast as you talk, motor mouth!

And I'm only talking at half-speed. You try to think as slow as I'm talking. It's not as easy as it looks.

I'm a fast typist! Shut UP! WRITE MY BLOG!!!

I have laryngitis. I can't talk to you anymore.

You are not backing up your part of the deal.

Hey, happy birthday Nell! Yay, Nell was born today.

See, you don't get this at all. You have to tell a great story about Nell, and then end with something like "...and thirty-three years ago today, she was born." Get it?

a) smart ass
b) self-evident
c) yay! It's Nell's birthday!

Jesus, it's no wonder you don't keep a blog. You have iffy communications skills.

I have laryngitis.

On the net, no one can hear you rasp. Jesus, will you quit screwing around and WRITE MY BLOG?!?!?

I think laryngitis is a state of mind. My brain feels a bit raspy. And now I'm bored, so finish your blog yourself.
P.S. It's Nell's Birthday! I mean, today. On Friday. This posts on Friday, right?

*sigh*... no, this posts on Saturday

And it was Laurie's birthday last week. Hey, weren't you going to stop writing a Friday night blog? That's what you said, anyway.

Look, this isn't supposed to be about me.

I'm done. Aren't we done?

Yeah. Great job, sweetie.

Posted by irw at January 9, 2004 8:47 PM