not some wilde ephemera,

May 22, 2008 at 8:09 pm | Posted in writing | 9 Comments
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How then is it possible to contain actual magic in language?

huh? don’t tell me, he says scratching his ample arse and groping for a something in a blur of soft intoxication, not the bloody mirrorson-whatley effect again,

No sir, that was an actual question.

Oh well, she’s alive you see, the language, he says pulling his pants on backwards, created as spoken and by common consent, unruly, haha, truely untameable for which we are eternally grateful,

Yes sir. Oh one more thing. Cook wants to know what you would like for dinner?

oh chops, of course, thursday night every good jazzman got chops, says Bootsy, leaning his bass on the piano and heading for the bar,

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