*to my left i can make out various buildings of the city... to my right there is a very beautiful rooftop, with lots of lichen on the terracotta tiles... and straight ahead through the flywire and the dribbled stains of the timber windows last reparation, there are layers of beautiful green trees against a grey backdrop of flat clouds.*

i would like to have a digital camera, so i could show you all the coloured piles of washing from two months of doing no washing what-so-ever. and yes, that means that i have a lot of clothes, a lot of clothes.

so i sit here waiting for the washing machine to chug through them all, one foot on the computer tower, arse half on the chair, waiting for the climactic thump of the spinning finale.

i would also show you the poem i made from, really old lettered blocks (i bought them in an oppy in brisbane over christmas) which are sitting proudly on the window sill in this configuration. they say;

"I EAT MASHED POO X"
and
"FREDS COME HOME"

i think ill get them published.

im trying to write interesting things but i keep getting distracted by the fact that i have no email surver (i check my email maybe 3 million times a day) and that i wish i was eating chocolate cake in a beautiful beach house with my best friend. thats where he is.

which reminds me, do you all have a number that you constantly use to exaggerate? mine's three, three million i use quite a bit. gen's is eight, or eighteen, and so is stens. so am i the only one that exaggerates in three's?

*THUMP*

washing calls.

hope the view is nice from where you are sitting.