Hemoglobin
Just got called away from the computer by M who had scheduled an appointment with the blood bank.
So we drove down to Southcenter to donate a couple pints to the bad drivers and gun toters of the world.
Unfortunately for me, I seem to be a bit anemic, from the bike ride I suppose, so they didn't want the stuff.
So now I'm back and just as unfunny as ever.
So we drove down to Southcenter to donate a couple pints to the bad drivers and gun toters of the world.
Unfortunately for me, I seem to be a bit anemic, from the bike ride I suppose, so they didn't want the stuff.
So now I'm back and just as unfunny as ever.
posted by Lane Savant at 2:31 PM
5 Comments:
Just got back from trying to give blood. I don't have enough iron. Maybe that's why my irony hasn't been working lately. I should have guessed, I was having trouble finding north.
Man, Oh man, oh Chevetz,
like two posts on one day.
What's shaking with the
great Savant, a dose of
tingling creativity?
Perhaps. I really dug the
poem, PSYCHOLOGICAL HANGOVER,
from the previous post,
and gave it a place of honor,
right above my latest opus,
THE WAITING ROOM, over on
FFTR. Wow, feel asleep while
riding Fidelio...now that is
incredible. Banging into the
back of a car, that was a
bonus I suppose. Well, you
still have several angels
who ride your shoulders like
mad monkeys, and they seem
to have a hell of sense of
humor, enit? I felt a little
self-imposed pressure to
write a poem over the week
end. I do all this posing
as a poet business, which
requires me to actually
write one of the damned
things every twice in a
while. You should contact
Woody Allen about your trouble
with the licorish stick, that
clarinet of your dreams.
He blows a cool one, so it
seems. Blood banks are other
wordly places actually, where
we stop by to donate our
life's blood because others
need it, like charity, like
being a good samaritan, or
a good friend, or a good
husband, brother, father--
stuff of dreams and legend.
It is why con men and women
can fool us, take advantage
of our good will, our
gullibility, our vulnerability.
I say to hell with being
a "good" person. I never was
terrific at it. My Miss M
keeps me in line, shames me
into signing cards for others,
giving gifts to others,
remembering our children,
feeding our pets....Christ,
one damned thing after
another! It is blessed cool
this morning, like 54 degrees.
And they say it may not even
hit 80 today, with some rain
down the line this week--
now that is Northwest living
at its finest!
Glenn
Hallo, Lane!
The computer in the Mecklenburg State Library wouldn't let me see your comment here (probably because of the picture, though the East Germans are anything but prude; nude bathing here is quite common) until I clicked that I did want to see your comment (if not your "bod")!
Tschüß,
Anonomann
P.S. Meredith got at least one vote for several positions on my ballot, as the voters pamphlet did not come with it, so I didn't know enough about the candidates to choose one, so I chose Meredith, who is better than any politician, anyway! I have sent her a photocopy of my ballot in case she wonders about which positions for which I voted her name (but I did vote for the people of my choice for mayor and county exec.).
I am going to dedicate this great song from you from placebo called haemoglobin:
I was hanging from a tree
Unaccustomed to such violence
Jesus looking down on me
I'm prepared for one big silence
How'd I ever end up here
Must be through some lack of kindness
And it seemed to dawn on me
Haemoglobin is the key
Haemoglobin is the key
To a healthy heart beat
Haemoglobin is the key
To a healthy heart beat
At the time they cut me free
I was brimming with defiance
Doctors looking down on me
Breaking every law of science
How'd I ever end up here?
A latent strain of color blindness
Then it seemed to dawn on me
Haemoglobin is the key
Haemoglobin is the key
To a healthy heart beat [x4]
And now my feet don't touch the ground
And now my feet don't touch the ground
Hope you liked it my friend
And now my feet don't touch the ground
And now my feet don't touch the ground
As they dragged me to my feed
I was filled with incoherence
Theories of conspiracy
The whole world wants my disappearance
I'll go fighting nail and teeth
You've never seen such perseverance
Going to make you scared of me
'Cause haemoglobin is the key
Haemoglobin is the key
To a healthy heart beat [x4]
And now my feet don't touch the ground [x8]
Looks like I'm going to have to trot out my DNA song again.
......Lane
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