I don't smoke

I drink only occasionally, and I'd sooner saw my own feet off than touch anything harder than a double espresso. I don't want to get out of my head: that's where I live.

victory is mine

bring me the finest muffins and bagels in all the land

but do you know what I've always wanted to do?

I would pick it up, throw its back legs over my shoulder and drag it through the snow to this little cabin. and there, I'd hang it up between a couple of trees, cut it open, drain it, dress it. and then I'd take my big hunting knife and I'd cut this loin, right out of the side.

and I'd go into the cabin and there'd be this woman, waiting for me. standing by one of those old stoves with a big black pipe. and I'd hand it to her, and she'd put it in a cast-iron skillet and then I'd sit at the table. and she'd bring it to me. and I'd wipe my knife on my knee.

and then I would eat it, while she watches.

recently I've been thinking

that I needed to empty the backpack, before I knew what to put back in it.