How did Mr Beavers know I wanted to be a trapeze artist? Really, just shoot me out of a cannon, if you please.
(Mr Beavers met us outside of the Brewhaus that night after "The Passion". He saw Dave, Kim, and I and asked us seriously if we were in the circus. He wore his cell phone on a belt clip on his khaki shorts. He -swear to God- said his name was Mike Beavers.)
I got a job offer in Florida. No benefits. Start Immediately. Good salary.
I told him I have to take the year off and bum around Europe with my girlfriend.
William F. Buckley Jr. - POB: Print Oriented Bastard. Hates anarchists.
Against me! - POB: Poetry Oriented Bastards. Hate Conservatives. Makes better music than William.
Kim's Birthday is the 22nd of September. She can balance an egg on her head only on her birthday, since it falls on the Autumnal Equinox. But at 11:30 a.m. she may still be drunk off cheap wine and try to eat the egg.
He swims. He gnaws. He builds dams. He moves us with his intelligence and grace. He is the Wily Beaver. And he is here to INTUBATE us all.
Friday, September 10, 2004
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