Here I am, Northwest, in my basement studio in the Capitol Hill neighborhood of Seattle. There's a nearly year-old Redbone Coonhound sleeping on the bed in his new city-dog harness. Lots of big life-and-career type things seem to be happening all at once (I want my MTV!). I'm not sure if I can even talk about it. I still don't have a job. I owe lots of people emails. I ate two Seattle dogs last night, which is a hot dog with onions and cream cheese on it. I talked with the street vendors for at least 10 minutes about regional hot dog differences. I think I really like it here.
Wanna read a brand new poem before it disappears? Sure ya do. To *plish* shortly...
*plish*
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I stole the title for this post from Cori Winrock. I made fun, then promptly, stole it. Read the poem at that link. It's good.
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Killer first line of the moment:
"Here where it is always Bethlehem,"
from Joe Weil's "Christmas, 1977"
(The Plumber's Apprentice, NYQ Books, 2009)
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There's more I want to say about it, I'm just not sure what.
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via Huffington Post
I think "To Kill a Mockingbird" might be the first book I ever loved. Strange to see negativity towards a book that, at least to me, is an iconic childhood novel, especially if you have a connection to the American South...
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Two guilty-pleasure websites:
Both emblematic of larger problems? Probably. Still funny? Definitely.
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via Tory Adkisson:
2 comments:
I dig the new poem! And now I want to visit Rupert. But in the exact moments you describe.
Hah, I have been via'ed by Luke Johnson! Confirmation I've made it to the big time :-D
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