summer of love...

so, those hippie squirrels were back this morning...perched in the same spot above my head...above the Harry Smith cottage...like the hippies that trained them they're total exhibitionists...if squirrels could smile i swear that's what they did, then they started humping...humping?! right in front of me...i'm like, for shame!...so i start backing off, they start making weird squirrel noises (gutteral groan/chirps), i run to the archives embarrassed, and now i'm blogging...

currenlty at work on an Elizabeth Robinson/ Kenneth Irby/ Robin Blaser reading at Naropa 6/ 14/ 03...

watched the hell out of the Olympics this weekend...check Jessica Smith's blog for cross-over Olympic obsession notes...

i sort of feel shady about it now...i stole a cute mini tumbler on satruday night from a sushi restaurant...

go to kasey's page for a polysemous take on the state of the poetry/publishing scene in its multiple incarnations...


that egomaniacal chump, Bodi Miller totally blew it on the downhill yesterday...poor Bodi...in other news, that lovable young short track skater Anton Apollo Ohno from Colorado Springs, bailed during the qualifiers yesterday afternoon...that sucks...speaking of Anton, have you seen that great Coca-Cola commercial where a bunch of guys in short track tights are lined up in a living room practicing their chant of "Ohno here comes Apollo, Oh Yes!" "Ohno here comes Apollo, Oh Yes!"...it's pretty great...

i really have to pee right now...i'll be back...