A bird flew up to me this morning.
“Nothing I have to say will be of any use to you.”
Scene four: St. Patty’s day in Boston.
I bought him a monkey in a cup. It’s pretty cute.
Call Site for Sore Eyes, 3:21pm. Make appointment.
Not for myself. Just listen to Nicole
Kidman: “Has anyone had Lasic surgery? Is it any good?
I can’t see. I walk around in a haze.”
I was online 3 hours last night talking to some
winterguard boy in Billerica. Maybe a date
with the pianoman on Friday? Premier Zhu’s address.
Mary Cassatt. Then the symphony with you-know-who.
He’s back from London. Yesterday he points me to the
sickest pigeon he’s ever seen.
