We’ve just been enjoying a long nap. We do sleep standing up though, no joke. It’s so we can run away quick if there’s danger. We live pampered city lives, however, and usually just wake up and pee immediately. Sometimes it splashes on our feet and makes us giggle!
This came in an email titled, “goddess skateboarder”:
Trading Alert! We told you to WATCH AGAO and now its [SIC] up again today. Get AGAO first thing on Monday, this is going to explode next 2-3 days!!!
Better late than never. Thanks, Job (you spammy twit).
Couple of new photo posts: an odyssey of New York City, and a sequence of Clip Clop’s epic manual. He broke his arm getting even radder later the same day; more on that later.
One of our old buddies from the Fran Empire wrote this little fiction for SLAP magazine. It’s about the future!
As a tightly knit family of horses, we are pretty much anti glue, but we’re happy to grant this fella a pass. Whatever sticky is on the bottoms of his shoes can stay!
And, by the looks of this site, stiffer than a stallion’s, uh, thingy.
“Is style–that convenience of settling oneself in and pinpointing the world–really the man? That questionable achievement bringing praise to the reveling author? His assumed gift is going to stick to him, slowly turning him sclerotic. Style: sign (a bad one) of an unchanged distance (but that could have, should have, changed), a distance where he mistakenly stays and one he maintains regarding his being, things, and individuals. Blocked! He threw himself into his style (or laboriously sought it out). For a life on loan, he let go of his wholeness, his possibility for change, mutation. Nothing to be proud of. Style that will become lack of courage, lack of openness, of renewal: in sum, an infirmity. Try to get out of it. Go far enough into yourself that your style can’t follow.”
-Henri Michaux, Tent Posts
