Don't send a lame Starring You! eCard. Try JibJab Sendables!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
"And I am a writer, writer of fictions / I am the heart that you call home / And I've written pages upon pages / trying to rid you from my bones..." -- "The Engine Driver" by The Decemberists
About Me
- Dave
- A recovering "slacker lit-geek," now trying to make good on all that untapped potential he kept hearing about.
friends who care for me
in beds in little rooms
bones beneath my skin
beneath the dust and love
ain't this position familiar
it's 4:30 a.m. on a tuesday
-
▼
2008
(146)
-
▼
January
(15)
- Why "Cloverfield" is Great and You Haters are Idiots.
- Covered in dust.
- Linky-Love-palooza
- More than 48 Million Dead
- Unbelievable: Heath Ledger, dead at 28
- Ch-ch-ch-ch...
- With Apologies to My Left-wing Readers
- We've Got Meme-Sign!
- I must confess the performance isn't that profound.
- Nothing to say.
- I don't think Patsy Cline meant it like that.
- Gimme the song and I'll sing it like I mean it.
- Songs for Unmusical Bloggers
- The PBB 2007 Reading List
- Coming Attractions
-
▼
January
(15)
No comments:
Post a Comment