I could give a damn about another tech industry turndown or about the disjointed flavor of this dismal site. It’s under reconstruction. Which used to be code for I’m just playing around, but now means I’m getting ready to book.
Which reminds me to purchase a bunch of ISBNs.
This post will soon be pristine… (nope)… but my philistinism will endure long after I’m here no more. (Yep) I’ve been thinking Substack but I remain too much the hack. Been thinking Squarespace, but I’ve found the platform to consciously piecemeal. Most likely, I’ll re-up for another year here with some new semi-serious nom de guerre, another long winded URL, and continue that forever war with my muse…. while hawking an e-book or two.
That’s sounds good, great, everything settled.
Now some poesy.
A warm summer’s morning
A forever winter’s night
And I’m frozen in that observation
An understanding that can’t thaw
And while I guffaw
In this blanket of self-pity
And wrap my self in this
stone cold corporeal fleece
I enjoy the sultriness,
deep within a witless
iceberg of a