Your Guaranteed Invitation to the Lint Ball

All my ideas are balled up in my sweaty palm dangled before the cart. I keep on moving, pretending they'll be used in a future art project or story, until found wasting away in the corner like dust bunnies with carrot breath, consumed but ultimately useless.
Attempting to concieve a child through science with my partner, both working 40 hrs+ a week, bombarded by holidays. Pardon the construction as I turn up the heat, the lint tray should pluck out some good sh*t that's been pillaging my brain.

12.24.2007

dying a slow death from the cuteness...



sigh... sigh... sigh. People shouldn't be this good looking. This child is perfection. For real, yo.
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