Auvergnat

I am in my couch. I made the journey to Vichy and back again with out spending a single cent. One time I made the dream that I found lots of coins on the ground and that they were oh so valuable. This dream is not only a dream always; I am very lucky when it comes to scavenging and I find coins souvent. This may contribute to my lack of freedom from disease. I vomited thrice in France. It was acidic and orange.

I met Géraud's grandpa. He told the story of a man who chewed tobacco. But this man stopped in église and put the chewed wad on his head and covered it with his cap. Chewed tobacco doesn't stay put like you'd think it would and so whilst praying to god, little red rivers of tobacco flowed from his crane down the back of his neck.

A packet of ballots came in the mail while I was in France. I don't see a ballot for the presidential election, only for public servants and congressional elections. I'm not sure where that leaves me. Do I make my own ballot or just assume they have already assumed who I'm voting for. PS Mccain is old.

As I said in the debut, I'm in the couch once again. I'm not sure how to get out of it. Two cushions absorb my fesses in a style that screams perfection and couch moulded to butt. I think it's more physics than that, but I always assume divine intervention.

Back to a political commentaire, I don't think that Palin is insane for dinosaurs. Cutting funding for real people who are living today, here and now, under her jurisdiction is where the insanity lies.

There is a void in our frigo. All eyes are on the cheese. You've got no distractions and no options. It'll suck you in. But you'll like it. Mostly.

bananas?

There are six bananas in my kitchen lookin mighty fine. And, and I am leaving tomorrow morning with my Geerawd and I can't figure out what the best way to lay these bananes to rest is. Do I crush them into mush and finger paint on the walls? Make banana bread? Try to freeze them and then cover with chocolate, then poke Grod with them...Or I could put them back on a tree in the hopes that the host will accept the bananas as its own. It's hard. Life.

I maybe might could have a future if I am accepted into a university in Liverpool. I feel not so sure since I can't write letters of intent very well. My style is more rant, blog, or letter. I can't do much in the way of showboatin around. Momma didn't teach me that. When I wrote that an image of Kate popped into my head. Kate with a giant wooden spoon and her apron on and she is trying to teach me how to curtsy.

I have to start somewhere.

I might have never mentioned this before, I can't remember. I live across/next to a convicted murderer by stabbing. He talks to me about his baby, I found out that it's his daughter of 15 years. They have family in Alabama. We've had this conversation more than once. But each time, slightly more is revealed. Once he gave Géraud a superman teeshirt. He wears it almost daily with a pair of perky seasonal christmas boxers. I just realized why he does this. He has two christmas tree farms.

Secrets come out when you are surrounded by sheep and natural beauty. They have.

The sky is leaking again and I seem to be one of a handful of people who notice. I walk to the store daily to get rations for the evening and this afternoon only 3 people umbrella-ed themselves. Save these sensitive few, I'm not so sure anyone else recognized the falling water as rain. Or perhaps they need a good wash err lube.

And to kill time I've been baking and Géraud has been eating. We are a good team. I also play literati on yahoo! I'm not very good.

Tomorrow Starts a 7 day diet of cheese, bread, cake, cookies, wine, and cheese. I'm going to France for a dual birthday celebration. It's going to be rough.

ps Guinness can make you president of gas club

Bougies

The past days or weeks or months or however long it’s been since my life put itself on paper has been both rushed and idling. In unemployment each passing day feels like one step closer to the end…of what, I’m not so sure.

I went to the lakes and paddled with my weak arms. Even if my arms grow in girth they will never become strong enough to propel my body weight on water. Under the water is a different story. My strength only knows success when submerged. Luckily, I’ve got two legs that are very much the opposite of their gangly cousins. These two masters of repetition and rhythm feel nothing and in a dire twist show everything. I can not count the numerous times I’ve showered only to find bruises dotting my thigh. I’ve never been able to figure out their source…. (Fairies) …..that is until this recent Saturday when a freak confession from Grod made it all so clear. He’s a kicker.

Or a puncher, but whichever limb his strength hides within is a stealth night hunter.

Today I am going to the post office to mail my cell phone to the south of England to the aunt of my dad’s fiancée. She will take my cell phone on vacation to Vancouver and Portland while I nest in the canapé. During the apartment hunt we saw various properities with not so great couches, now I realize that it wouldn’t have mattered because my day activities could have broken in any couch, any piece of sheet metal.

I’m supposed to go to France soon. This means more questioning, more eating, more drinking. Feelings inside body are less neutral than

I saw a giant French spider in Liverpool. And then we couldn’t escape it. I love the costumes of the team with their leather aprons and buttoned jackets that mesh insane asylum with circus. The circus aesthetic has always tickled my fancy, from the size acceptance to use of circles. I like round.

I see people have voted on name for Runcorn and im sad to say that no one voted for runcornbread. I quite liked that one. Twas my fav