B O N D P H O N E.
Words and pictures by Chris Lamb.

Blink and it's mid-April, spring, sunny with the birds out and humidity rising. Push the keyboard up against the blank flat-screen monitor, slide the fancy mouse with its red eye of a roll ball out of the way to make room for bondphone v.2.0 and it's fold out keyboard. A commentary on progress I don't have the caffiene levels to make. Jeff Buckley bounces around the new apartment - a vertical move to the space downstairs gives us twice the space and a methed out redneck harpo for a neighbor - like the friend you don't see a lot of anymore; always tipsy, rambling, spilling out the wrecked poetry inside to keep from bursting. Quiet, just-warm afternoons with mozerrela bread for lunch and a cigarettes for desert. Life jerks forward in weird moves. Vodka chilling in the freezer and definitions for "cascade" - waterfalls, lace, components, processes; from the Italian cacata - on the wall. No money, no tomorrow, just moments in broken order and old-fashioned brutality. Just running.

Talk about comics forthcoming, once the full time fuck-over of work and money woes stable enough for me to get something on paper worth mentioning. David Mamet and logic over interesting. Thinking in three dimensions and the long sit down with my characters. Later though, now that Blogrouter and the new phone are playing nice.

posted by chris  # 1:38 AM