sperm wail

Dot hog, Diary...when did I trade giggles about ice swans and jeans with knee patches for cryptic visual puntimes and...you know, it was so, so gradual. Like coastal erosion. Or an un-seconded emotion! Am I that much older and crinkledier?

Maybe I'll book(web?)mark this acre for a big old-fashioned farm of an entry, with singing piglings and a lonely old donkey with a nice bonnet and lots of geese. The geese don't have to do anything -- they're great as-is.

fell on 2005-08-11 at 7:43 p.m.

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