I open this page and think of a couple words to start with, then I type without stopping till I have a paragraph.Then I press publish. No pausing. No editing. (I fix up the spelling and the odd bit of punctuation to make it more in line with what my brain was thinking and my fingers were trying to type, but I don't add or remove any words) ........... Find LITTLE VISIONS VOL 1 in audiobook and zine format at https://bridesofchrist.bandcamp.com/album/little-visions-vol-1-audiobook
Wednesday, January 22, 2020
THE FRENCH WAITER ASKED IF I WOULD LIKE A CHICKEN GOUJON
The french waiter asked if I would like a chicken goujon. I was struck dumb by the weighty beauty of the word. I glazed over in rapture, softly repeating the word goujon over and over. "Yes, Monsieur", the waiter said, getting a little testy. "Would you like one?" I could faintly recognize that someone was speaking to me in my human body life, but at this point I was far away in a deep crreamy place in which the word goujon surrounded me and tickled all my five senses seductively, even seeming to massage a hitherto unknown sixth sense with it's majestic power. Without doubt they would soon have my body wrapped in a straitjacket and hauled off to the funny farm. I hoped they would serve some kind of Goujon there on fridays.
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