i’m on nasa road one. doesn’t that sound cool?
i’m sure that to the people who live and/or work in and around nasa it doesn’t sound cool.
but to me, having grown up dreaming about space and space exploration, it sounds pretty cool.
and it’s 3 a.m and i’m tired and my hotel room smells like mold and cleaning supplies.
sexy, huh. nothing says ‘sexy’ like mold and cleaning supplies.
and there’s a sound like a pterodactyl coming from the hallway of the hotel.
aren’t there laws about pterodactyls in hotel hallways at 3 a.m?
well, there should be.
tax-paying hotel guests deserve to have a good nights sleep that is undisturbed by flying dinosaurs.
at least that’s what i think.
wouldn’t it be nice to be on a big sailboat somewhere near the equator?
with those big equatorial clouds? and some people who were pretty good chess players, but not so good as to beat you every time that you playedagainst them? and a big bowl of pineapples?
and some dogs. not salty sea dogs, but canines.
sometimes i wonder just how many people have had sex in the hotel rooms in which i stay. but then i realize that some things are best unthought about.
especially if you imagine sweaty people lovelessly rutting in the bed in which i’m about to sleep.
so i won’t think about loveless, sweaty rutting in the hotel bed next to this desk.
ok, goodnight.
moby