Leaf Me Be

Forget me. I'll just lay here, swooned, being covered over by autumn, left to rot beneath the coming snow.


Ok, I'm over that now. Come sit with me. I've got an apple for your eye.

Single Monk Looking for Cellmate

Dreaming of a romantic partner for a cruise?


We could go back to Staten Island, me and you.


Sit out by the point in Central Park, go up to that gazebo.


Look over the water and see what that sparks.


We could share some nibbles on a bench.

Sound good? I'm your monk.

Sky on my Shoulders

I'd grab some farm-time to sow some wild oats, but there's so much competition from the domestically-grown oats. Sigh.

Vision

Sitting in deep meditation I saw an image of myself and a visitor. I sat and watched the wild-white eyes. Waiting outs its snorts and pawing of of the ground, gradually it settled.


In my ears as I woke was a voice like God: Taming the unicorn takes intention and time.

Jetting

There's something mad-great about spurts. This is a waterpark like thing in Montreal.


It pulses in rhythm like visual music. Forget fireworks. That's medieval china. We're talking valves and pumps!


I'm just out of reach.

Dance Fever

Tropical Themed club


My fans blurred out.

Well, that was a gas.

At the doctor's, I was looking a canisters, noticing none of them would fit under my sweater, even if I was still wearing it.

I was thinking some nitrous oxide could be handy for some social scenes. Party like it's the 1790s.

Cocky Monkey

Ok so my team lost.

I'm not taking the sweater off. We'll take the cup text year.

Bowling Nite

I'm winning so far.

Although I have a proxy to handle my balls.

Pool Night

Pool has my second favorite kind of racks.


Not my night for that kind of lady luck.

Butter Believe It

That last money ticket fell thru so the only place I'll be going for a while is the movies. At least I'm off parole so that hassle is over.


Good in the box, good in the sack. I'm good, and back, let's just leave it at that.

Signs of Spring

A shot in the park. Before the snow begins again. The very last snow ever.

Feeling Peckish

Time is wearing on. Feeling peckish too?


And by peckish, we mean Cannibalistic.

hey, I know his brother

Won't You Let Me Take You

on a sea cruise?


Okay. You docked me into it.


A little near dip in the humid port of call.


Some real plants again.


Some sweet green. (Not that kind of green. I'm clean I say.)


Overnight at a charming B&B before we get back on board. Suppose I should have recorded something of that time but you know, that wasn't what was foremost on our minds...and she is a lady...

Caught up in Things

And in Statuary.

Heading off for a quick weekend getaway with a Lady-Love to warmer climes.

Reports may follow.

Remember Summer?

Last summer before things went apeshit, good times.


Relaxing in my lady's yard.


Catching some rays on the deck chair.


Always use a condiment people.


Watch where you shove that thing. Monkey bits aren't replaceable the way girlie bits are.

Hey, I kid. No need to put me behind bars on that account.


I'm such a criminal mind.

Rock On. Folk On?

Let the music play.. boys.


A few screwdrivers under black lights is the same as a ball peen hammer under morning light.

All Washed Up

Time for the dryer.

Under them Skivvies

Nothing to see here. Move along.

So I'm houseboy, ok? When she said my duties would be comprehensive, I didn't take it quite so literally.


I thought she meant scrubbing potatoes more figuratively. She's funny that way.

Although I'm not saying it's not without perks, if you get my usual drift.

Linky Link

A baby monkey squee! squee!

Ahem. A manly squee, you understand. More of a grrr-squee really.

As you were.

Slowing Down the Pace

For reasons purely my own I'm going to do this reflection-shmection stuff.


My parole officer has nothing to do with it. Very little to do with it. Ok, so she brought me the materials and checks it like I was a third grader writing out lines. Fine.

But if I want to waste my time in my own head, it's no one's fault but my own. You got a problem with that?

Good things can come from an appreciation of the finer things in life. Like what? Like meeting chicks in yoga class. Rich chicks go for that sort of stuff.


Who knows, this may be the dawn of a kinder, gentler Monk.

Ha. Pray for me, children.

The 4th Monkey

I got an envelope slid under my door. No return address. Inside, some old buddies of mine. A lifetime ago the gag was picked up by the local paper. Who would know that?


The style could be either Rat, or the not so subtle nudge from ex #12 to do no evil.

What does she know? Has she learned something new?

Oops, failure to care.

Happy Valentines Day

I can't feel my feet anymore.

Do I have feet?

Is there a floor?

Morning? Already?

First, let me say -- I don't know whose eyeglasses those are in the toilet but they aren't mine.

Second, you are so lucky not to have to smell that.


Third, I don't know if we ever made it as far as the bed.

And can someone turn down the sun just a titch?


God, so tired.

What a way to start a Valentine's Day.