Stink Blossoms
"GET THE FUCK OUTA THERE, GET THE FUCK OUTA THERE!!!"
I'm yelling at the ambassador-in-training as an actress reads her letter to home from her post in Rwanda. She writes about how the Tutsi minority is about to be slaughtered by the disgruntled Hutu. We all know how that went down.
Another saddle-sore day. I musta rode 25 miles. That's only a couple of hours worth of riding on a bike unburdened by panniers, or saddle bags, full of gear.
Fruit trees are blooming all down the river and the wind blows their sweet stink all over the place.
It's time to start thinking about what I'm gonna do with all this crap.
I'm yelling at the ambassador-in-training as an actress reads her letter to home from her post in Rwanda. She writes about how the Tutsi minority is about to be slaughtered by the disgruntled Hutu. We all know how that went down.
Another saddle-sore day. I musta rode 25 miles. That's only a couple of hours worth of riding on a bike unburdened by panniers, or saddle bags, full of gear.
Fruit trees are blooming all down the river and the wind blows their sweet stink all over the place.
It's time to start thinking about what I'm gonna do with all this crap.
posted by Deri at 6:56 PM
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