11 December 2005
Gone Fishing
Everyone needs a vacation, so Conditional Reality is taking a break for some rest and recreation. Look for new posts here in late January. Until then, feel free to browse my archives or visit some of the sites to the left. They are all excellent endeavors, produced by talented people of exceptional taste (obviously, since they recommend and/or link to this blog). If you absolutely can’t stand to be without my writing for a month (I wish) feel free to buy any or all of my poetry books. (Links also to the left.) See you in the new year.
Labels: Housekeeping
# posted by Mario @ 3:51 PM 
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12/30-31/05
the wee hours
Last present-swapping visit of the Yule Hanukkah Christmas collision. Just as withdrawal from Conditional Reality postings was reaching epic proportions, a package: Animal Life, by Mario Milosevic. The New Year saved.
the wee hours
Last present-swapping visit of the Yule Hanukkah Christmas collision. Just as withdrawal from Conditional Reality postings was reaching epic proportions, a package: Animal Life, by Mario Milosevic. The New Year saved.
how do you say "season's greetings" in a hundred words :).. looking forward to a pretty good year..
# posted by 
: 2:18 AM
: 2:18 AM
Mario--
You have driven me to write a 100 word short...
hope all is well,
chall
_____
The Saint
There was once a saint, St. Amon, who was anointed to sainthood while he was still alive. Consternation was widespread among all others in town. St. Amon, a plumber, did his best not to change his lifestyle. The townspeople, curious, sent him “temptations” in the form of naked women and good whiskey. In his later years he told me that he always enjoyed the whiskey and thought of the bodies as “divinely beautiful; an interesting attraction, as one might see at a circus.” The townspeople’s consternation only increased until his death, at which point he was like any other saint.
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You have driven me to write a 100 word short...
hope all is well,
chall
_____
The Saint
There was once a saint, St. Amon, who was anointed to sainthood while he was still alive. Consternation was widespread among all others in town. St. Amon, a plumber, did his best not to change his lifestyle. The townspeople, curious, sent him “temptations” in the form of naked women and good whiskey. In his later years he told me that he always enjoyed the whiskey and thought of the bodies as “divinely beautiful; an interesting attraction, as one might see at a circus.” The townspeople’s consternation only increased until his death, at which point he was like any other saint.
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