BLAZE

Harrumph! One day the eagle has to land...

The recent depiction of your earnest scribe as a tight-fisted, taste-impaired despot is little short of slander! Not to mention that I'm not the smith living in the 32-percent tax bracket. No, me, I'm an honest jones. Who happens to own quite a few CDs. All perfectly tasty. Except for Mitsou.

Too hot to be profound. Maybe I'll go for a swim in the cool stream of consciousness. Watch out for the po-mo falls. And the dread master narrative. Don't feed the grizzlies. Or the buffalo.

... blue isn't red, everybody knows this ...

Finished Oryx and Crake. Have given up on The Polished Hoe. Will try again in the fall. Now reading The Sight — YA told from the point of view of Transylvanian wolves.

I need a life of noodle stories. Giggling madly. Indulging indulgently. Dreaming wakefully. Sigh and sigh again.

Gotta work now. More nattering later. Oh yes, and do remind me to write about the irony shovel.