out for a ride
Cooling down on the bike path, tailwind, barreling along at 20 miles per hour, heart barely turning over, feeling good, passing the hybrids, the recumbents, pretty much everything on wheels. Come up on a female triathlete fifteen years my junior who looks like she was carved by the Gods. Time trial bike. New knicker-length cycling pants. Quietly, effortlessly, I go to pass her. She looks over, smiles broadly, gazes forlornly upon my face and says, "Oh, I thought you were someone else." And that would be the story of my life.
Fans of Miss Heartwell will be pleased to hear that she is buffed and freelancing. The producer who once shot a fifteen second spot in Australia is working on a wretched opportunity that took her to Prague and other parts unknown for intense suffering and restaurant-less production. She loves Chicago and all it stands for. She had time to get together with TK who was born to be a producer. Sadly, I did not.
TK has been to the ugly party and emerged a better man. His first was a hypoglycemic challenge, an actress who did her best work off the stage, which should say something. His second time around is bringing him much happiness.
Miss Belden has not one but two films entered into the Cannes Film Festival. Oh, if only I were smart enough to be promoted to the production department. i I lack the good looks, the fine clothing, the natural-born charm. I'm willing to have some work done to make the cut. Calf implants, liposuction, chemical peel, tummy tuck, hair plugs, whatever it takes.
Father Hart is well. He put an end to the blogging sabbatical and now I am back with nothing to say but a willingness to say something, anything, really.
Floyd is tossed and really, did we expect any other outcome? Why it took over a year to get pitched is a mystery which did cycling no good at all. Really, how many people know that Oscar really won. He was robbed. The old guard is out and the new guard is in but only time will tell if there's anything left for the new guard to aspire to. Disco is folding.
We are waiting for a flight, camping in a hotel lobby with free internet, a vagabond's dream. That's all for now.
Best to you and yours,
JWB
Fans of Miss Heartwell will be pleased to hear that she is buffed and freelancing. The producer who once shot a fifteen second spot in Australia is working on a wretched opportunity that took her to Prague and other parts unknown for intense suffering and restaurant-less production. She loves Chicago and all it stands for. She had time to get together with TK who was born to be a producer. Sadly, I did not.
TK has been to the ugly party and emerged a better man. His first was a hypoglycemic challenge, an actress who did her best work off the stage, which should say something. His second time around is bringing him much happiness.
Miss Belden has not one but two films entered into the Cannes Film Festival. Oh, if only I were smart enough to be promoted to the production department. i I lack the good looks, the fine clothing, the natural-born charm. I'm willing to have some work done to make the cut. Calf implants, liposuction, chemical peel, tummy tuck, hair plugs, whatever it takes.
Father Hart is well. He put an end to the blogging sabbatical and now I am back with nothing to say but a willingness to say something, anything, really.
Floyd is tossed and really, did we expect any other outcome? Why it took over a year to get pitched is a mystery which did cycling no good at all. Really, how many people know that Oscar really won. He was robbed. The old guard is out and the new guard is in but only time will tell if there's anything left for the new guard to aspire to. Disco is folding.
We are waiting for a flight, camping in a hotel lobby with free internet, a vagabond's dream. That's all for now.
Best to you and yours,
JWB
posted by joe berkeley at 6:52 PM
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