It’s not that I have nothing to say. It’s that nothing is coming out. My typewriter ribbon is all dried up and I’m typing away but nothing shows up. Luckily I’m typing on a carbon triplicate form and although the white cover sheet appears to be blank, the yellow and pink copies are coming through loud and clear.But maybe all you can see is that blank white page. When you finally catch a glimpse of the pink or the yellow it might scare you.
If David Byrne can claim to be borderline Asperger‘s then I’ll claim to be over the line, across the border, in another time zone.
Temple Grandin kicks ass.
librarians are hot. So are women that work in bakeries, women in landscaping and women that ride bikes.
Bikes.
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