Thursday, October 20, 2005

Defining miscellaneous

My brain is resembling this odd-lot of estate leftovers (from an IM Chait auction): Nordic god staring down bumm of Indian toy horse, away from the foppish bronze, bookended bits and pieces of remaindered porcelain.

The blog is reflecting this level of disorder.

Should Hepburn as Miss Doolittle really follow on an ode to alchemy? What kind of brain would birth such a juxtaposition?

But I see no real improvment, or common theme, on the horizon. Not yet. Not as long as I'm still not moved into the house, living on a reduced wardrobe out of baskets at R's.

C - apologizing, but not remedying, the inconsistencies of recent posts, and hailing the disorder of the modern mind, the information age....

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