Piss off...

Friday, November 18, 2005

Sonic Reducer

Writing while listening to early '80s punk, although jolly good fun, is rather difficult. Convulsions and typing work against each other. Also, don't try this while sucking from a bottomless caraffe of French Roast. Fucking hell if I know how Kerouac did it. I switched to Fats Waller. Master of stride piano, with a left hand possesed by Satan himself. I don't play piano, but my left hand should be hitting A's and E's the letters rather than A's and E's the root notes and fifths. I switched to silence, but that was too...silent. So now at 2:04 PM I'm listening to the great Down Memory Lane on NPR. Meanwhile, I'm typing this rather than working on the novel. Oops.

So where was I again???


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