My life, that is, but I know, I'm not special. Why should I gripe about my life, when everybody's got somethin' to write home about. I guess I just wish it was as simple as this picture. I think we had a copy of it in my parents house, when I was growing up. I think I wanted to live this lifestyle, whatever that was. I mean, I think this lady is about to drink Absinthe. So that might have been weird for a kid--But it does look exotic--doesn't it?
So, now it's November---I feel like my favorite time of year is slipping by me---I'm gonna miss the foliage, just simply due to my own melancholy--Halloween is already gone---and now I gotta quickly make a new hand turkey drawing, because Thanksgiving is 2 weeks away---and then my birthday comes-where I will be 37---Who ever dreams of being 37? It's an odd age----you're not 35--which seems like a milestone--and you're not 40 (thank god)-you're just sittin' there---37--boring--(I secretly love 37, because it has my favorite number in it, which is 7)
Anyway---just feeling down----I look like the phantom, I've probably got dog shit on my heels, and I gotta host a show tonight, that nobody ever comes to, even though everyone says how great it is--but where are they then? So, this is what ya get----ya go to seek out a light blog from a comedian, and ya get Sylvia Plath---Love ya
No comments:
Post a Comment