Sunday, May 11th 2008 “Blawg”-ing
So.
What if Blawgs were actual online web journals?
What if the people who closely associate the author with the Author’s work suddenly were made privy to the basic in and out, day to day, thots of the author? How closely would the thoughts and actions parralel the work the author does?
What if F a t h e r L u k e dot Blawg were to suddenly be a web-log (blog), and a journal?
Here goes. . .
Sunday, May 11th 2008
Woke up naked in San Francisco in Kim’s bed. She’s still sleeping.
We fell asleep watching Harry Potter last night. The first one - The Sorcerer’s Stone. I’d seen it before. She felt me stirring, as she slept. Want your clothes, she asked. Yeah, I said. She reached over in her sleep, and grabbed the clothes off the floor, and dropped them on the bed. I put them on, and told her I was gonn’a go write. She said she wanted to “dangle” a little bit more in sleep.
I went to the Bukowski Forum to see if there was anything to moderate. Naw. All quiet. Since mjp updated the software there has been relatively little bullshit to deal with. People, I imagine, have no idea what a moderator’s job is, or what they do, so I will say a little bit about that. Basically I delete spammers, and spam poasts. And that’s pretty much the end of the fucking story.
Kim got up later, and I told her I was hungry. We decided to cook something instead of going out to eat. We had organic, home grown vegetables from her garden. Simmered with some garlic she had grown up at the Lucas Skywalker ranch. I may be getting that wrong, it’s just how I remember it.
I’m remembering that Mortimer, at Media-Underground.net, once told me that I was wasting my webspace, and that I should use it. Well, I did. Now I’m using my Blawg to Journal. Oh. Have I said that? So wut. I repeat myself, and ideas become concrete. Sue me. Everyone else is.
I’ll be watching a couple more of the Harry Potter films today. It was that or Short-Cuts by Altman. I’ve read Ray Carver’s stuff, so I’ll be waiting a bit on the Short-Cuts. I was surprised to hear the Lyle Lovette plays the baker. I was picturing some hairy, fat guy. It will be an interesting experience to finally watch the flick.
Later on I’ll be in Berkley to go to some poetry reading with Bill Roberts, and Soheyl Dahi. I think it’s in Berkley. Kim is driving. It might be in San Francisco. I can’t find my ass with two hands. Fuck do I know where it is . . . ?
Merle Haggard is singing as I write these words on Boot Liquor Radio.
