(Entered in paper journal at 9:55 AM at Ozzie's coffee shop at Garfield Street and 5th Avenue in Brooklyn.)
Dream 1
I sat in a large room like a gymnasium with seats and booths like at an exposition. I sat with some people "from my NYC Americorps program," one of whom looked a little like HE. To my left sat a woman I could hear but not see. She was a good worker.
We were talking bad about the bad workers. At some point we said something that seemed to imply something about the workers in HE's group. HE asked who we were talking about. I said her name and another girl's name as if HE wasn't the person asking me the question. HE's eyes got big.
My friend said, "No, no. He wasn't talking about you."
I realized now I had mentioned HE and her group of friends. HE acted like she wasn't HE and told me to continue naming people and saying bad things about those people. I could tell she was going to tell on me to her friends and get my ass kicked.
Dream 2
I stood knee-deep in a wide pond or stream. I was with a lot of people "from my NYC Americorps program." We stood scattered so the wide area looked busy with people. I apparently stood with my back to a cabin that served as a research office. We were rescuing or surveying large water animals, something like fish and eels with bright coloration.
I was wary of standing in the water too much longer. I thought I'd catch some disease, possibly from stuff homeless people and junkies might throw in the water.
I looked back to the office. A couple people, an older man and younger woman, spoke to me congenially about people really getting out in the water and collecting data. They said the data was almost completely collected.
I felt silly now for being in the office instead of out with all the other good people collecting data in the water. But I also felt like I needed to prove myself to the office people, to prove I could do the intellectual and analytical work as well as they could.
To prove this (don't know why) I walked back outside. The water was a lot shallower and there was rock outcropping to my right, and right of that, a lawn or park setting. I was pretty much the only person still in the water.
I picked up a turtle, as if we were now saving turtles instead of surveying strange water creatures. I put the turtle down on a rock. it wasn't moving. It needed a lot of moisture, and I had put it in a dry spot far from any wet spots. I picked it back up.
A few people from the office were coming outside. The area was now totally dry. They were heading to a picnic down a hill to my right. I carried the turtle a few steps and put it down in a spot that I hoped the office people would thing was less stupid. The spot was like a landslide of pumice-like rocks. Down the slope was a lawn with some pine trees. A group of picnickers sat by a pine tree.
The turtle crept down the rocks. I couldn't see any water. I knew the turtle would die if it didn't find water in a short time. But I just assumed the turtle would find water. I felt lazy and stupid.
Dream 3
I was traveling in something like a train's dining car mixed with a science lab or office. We traveled past an area that looked like a pyramid in half-repair. Parts of the walls were smooth. Other parts had a crumpled concrete or uncut stone look like on some brownstones. It also seemed like the pyramid rose out of a quarry or mining area, surrounded with bulldozers and electrical wires.
A woman (who now looks like the mother on Arrested Development) showed me a ground plan having to do with the pyramid and some other sites around the world.
A group of people were around me. The woman liked me and not them. I took some snide pleasure out of this. but I also saw that they did not take me or the woman seriously, and that they thought the projects were bogus. I tried to vindicate the woman by listening to her.
The plan of the pyramid was in blocky-inked design. the pyramid's base was L-shaped with a circle in the upper-right quadrant where a main portion of the pyramid had been replaced with something like enormous pipes. (The image looks like some abstract representation of a Super Mario Bros. game.)
I saw "in my mind's eye," a few other sites all around the world. They were all monumental and somehow mystical, and they all were surrounded by bulldozers and electrical lines or modern technology.
At last I saw a long river, in a site almost identical with the site where the ruined pyramid had been, at the bottom of a quarried-out or mined-out slope littered with ore. Now a long, tall concrete wall stood along the far side of the river, blocking the slope and also concealing a town which seems now like Venice to me.
I called out to the woman, calling from the distances within my mind's eye, "Oh! Look at that hideous wall! What are they doing to all our old structures?"
I noticed that the wall had thick, rusty steel beams at close intervals and was also webbed over with electrical lines. It also seems like running up the tall wall, almost to the top (i.e. an absurd height), were water stains, marking high and low tide levels, but also staining the walls with a beautiful array of dredged, rusty colors.
Dream 4
I stood about calf-deep in some water at the edge of a marsh or bog deep in a forest. My friend and NYC Americorps coworker KB stood up on a dryish hump of land.
I pulled a turtle out of the water. It had a beautiful face, bright green spattered with deep black. I called this turtle a Norway Maple, and I wondered why people couldn't recognize these turtles, even after the people had spent so long out in the field.
I put the turtle back in the water. Now the marsh was dry, the turtle was gone, and a few more people stood on the island with KB. I had planned come out here to remove some weeds myself. But then, I guess, KB had come along. Now it was a project with a few people.
I noticed how few weeds there were for this many people -- just a ten-foot by seven-foot patch. I looked to my left. A few hundred grass plants had been put into a cleared area. I was a little encouraged as well as discouraged that there was so little work left to do.
I pulled a few weeds to show my friends I could work. Then I saw some Phragmites stalks. (Phragmites is a tall, invasive grass that was very common throughout New York City's parks. I can't recall, but it may have had a tough root system, which needed to be pulled out altogether, or else the grass would sprout right back up.)
I thought I should go get some loppers. But I tried pulling by hand first. The plant came out easily. I thought, Well, obviously. The marsh soil is still soggy. But it also seemed dry.
Showing posts with label arrested development. Show all posts
Showing posts with label arrested development. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 1, 2017
Sunday, February 26, 2017
(12/4/05) road rage; flying is faster
(Entered in paper journal at 9:45 AM at some Starbucks.)
Dream 1
There were two cars at a suburban intersection. The front one was to the left of the back one. The front car was very vague, but junky. The back car was very nice, like a mint condition Dodge Duster painted black with a thick, white stripe going down the center of the top of the car. There was a man in the front car and a woman in the back car.
A woman stood by the passenger side, front door of the front car. She was looking at the back car. A license plate was lying on the woman thought the license plate belonged to the back car. A lot of wire looped around and frayed from holes on the left and right of the license plate. The woman thought it was a good sign that the plate had fallen off the back car.
On each side of the car were posts bars in right angles with slopes of bunched wire rounding the inside corners.
Somehow the front woman communicated with the back woman. The back woman had no idea where the license plate came from. She was also annoyed that she couldn't get through this intersection.
The front woman (who was now also me somehow) opened the door to the front car so she could get in. She knew before the back woman even began revving her engine angrily that the back woman would be annoyed that the woman didn't just step aside and let her through instead of opening the door and blocking the way even longer for the back woman. But part of the reason the woman did it was to prove that the back woman couldn't tell her what to do all the time. But now the back woman was revving the engine so fiercely that I/the woman got afraid and closed the door and stood beside the front car.
I was also partly the man in the front car, and I felt ashamed for not defending my female friend, who might also have been my daughter. The back car throttled forward now and screamed around the corner clockwise, stopping after turning the next corner.
We could see it. It just stopped there at the edge of a vacant lot and sat there. But I think both of us/them/I were afraid even to move because we didn't want the thing to start revving and screaming any more.
Dream 2
It was a sunny day. I walked with a male and female who were older business people, who were my bosses. I was short like a child. We walked in a suburban area full of vacant lots, but it felt like the city was here or just a couple steps away all the time.
My bosses were mad at me because I took them on a walk that was longer than I'd thought it would be. My bosses were now late to and hurried for a meeting.
I tried to make them happier by walking faster, but they were still mad. So I grabbed their hands, and we all walked up into the air. Once we got about fifty feet up in the air, we moved a lot faster and cut corners and blocks. But neither of my bosses quite new they were flying. I decided it was better to let them think what they wanted to think.
Now it was just the woman and I. We flew over some nineteenth century London-style buildings and into a dumpy yard made by the hind ends of some dirty buildings. We were going to meet the man there.
I told the woman, "Now you'll see how much faster my flying was, and you'll be less disappointed in me."
But as soon as we landed, the woman, who was now my boss PG, forgot that we had been flying. The man (now George Bluth from the TV show Arrested Development) walked out in an undershirt. He, too, forgot that we had flown. I tried to prove it.
I said, "Look at the time. Now, when did we leave XXXXX? It's not too long after that, is it? And we even had a meal at XXXXX." (Some restaurant.) "Doesn't that mean something to you? How fast we got here?"
I couldn't say anything more. I didn't want directly to tell the man and woman that they had flown. I did want to show them I did get them here soon enough to show up for their meeting. But they were both, the male more so -- the woman was kind of dissolving -- sullen, and now they didn't want to go to the meeting. Neither of them even believed we had gone to a meal.
I said, "I'll show you." We held a meeting. There were rows of tables before a television.
The people were now kids. But the "meeting" was now on a television.
The male stood up and said, "Where was I at XXXXX time?"
A little girl stood up and said, "You were having breakfast at XXXXX."
The male was very disappointed. He cried, even, and said, "I've been wrong. I'm sorry. I should have believed you had things under control."
Dream 1
There were two cars at a suburban intersection. The front one was to the left of the back one. The front car was very vague, but junky. The back car was very nice, like a mint condition Dodge Duster painted black with a thick, white stripe going down the center of the top of the car. There was a man in the front car and a woman in the back car.
A woman stood by the passenger side, front door of the front car. She was looking at the back car. A license plate was lying on the woman thought the license plate belonged to the back car. A lot of wire looped around and frayed from holes on the left and right of the license plate. The woman thought it was a good sign that the plate had fallen off the back car.
On each side of the car were posts bars in right angles with slopes of bunched wire rounding the inside corners.
Somehow the front woman communicated with the back woman. The back woman had no idea where the license plate came from. She was also annoyed that she couldn't get through this intersection.
The front woman (who was now also me somehow) opened the door to the front car so she could get in. She knew before the back woman even began revving her engine angrily that the back woman would be annoyed that the woman didn't just step aside and let her through instead of opening the door and blocking the way even longer for the back woman. But part of the reason the woman did it was to prove that the back woman couldn't tell her what to do all the time. But now the back woman was revving the engine so fiercely that I/the woman got afraid and closed the door and stood beside the front car.
I was also partly the man in the front car, and I felt ashamed for not defending my female friend, who might also have been my daughter. The back car throttled forward now and screamed around the corner clockwise, stopping after turning the next corner.
We could see it. It just stopped there at the edge of a vacant lot and sat there. But I think both of us/them/I were afraid even to move because we didn't want the thing to start revving and screaming any more.
Dream 2
It was a sunny day. I walked with a male and female who were older business people, who were my bosses. I was short like a child. We walked in a suburban area full of vacant lots, but it felt like the city was here or just a couple steps away all the time.
My bosses were mad at me because I took them on a walk that was longer than I'd thought it would be. My bosses were now late to and hurried for a meeting.
I tried to make them happier by walking faster, but they were still mad. So I grabbed their hands, and we all walked up into the air. Once we got about fifty feet up in the air, we moved a lot faster and cut corners and blocks. But neither of my bosses quite new they were flying. I decided it was better to let them think what they wanted to think.
Now it was just the woman and I. We flew over some nineteenth century London-style buildings and into a dumpy yard made by the hind ends of some dirty buildings. We were going to meet the man there.
I told the woman, "Now you'll see how much faster my flying was, and you'll be less disappointed in me."
But as soon as we landed, the woman, who was now my boss PG, forgot that we had been flying. The man (now George Bluth from the TV show Arrested Development) walked out in an undershirt. He, too, forgot that we had flown. I tried to prove it.
I said, "Look at the time. Now, when did we leave XXXXX? It's not too long after that, is it? And we even had a meal at XXXXX." (Some restaurant.) "Doesn't that mean something to you? How fast we got here?"
I couldn't say anything more. I didn't want directly to tell the man and woman that they had flown. I did want to show them I did get them here soon enough to show up for their meeting. But they were both, the male more so -- the woman was kind of dissolving -- sullen, and now they didn't want to go to the meeting. Neither of them even believed we had gone to a meal.
I said, "I'll show you." We held a meeting. There were rows of tables before a television.
The people were now kids. But the "meeting" was now on a television.
The male stood up and said, "Where was I at XXXXX time?"
A little girl stood up and said, "You were having breakfast at XXXXX."
The male was very disappointed. He cried, even, and said, "I've been wrong. I'm sorry. I should have believed you had things under control."
Sunday, February 19, 2017
(1/24/06) saving the animals
(Entered in paper journal at 7:03 PM at Starbucks on 43rd Street and 3rd Avenue in Manhattan.)
Dream 1
I was in a living room in a small house. It was day, and the light in the house was dim from the windows. I don't know for sure who or what I was in the house for, though I might have been waiting for someone in particular.
I heard a noise from the bathroom. It sounded like a mean animal. I was afraid, but I walked to the bathroom.
Out of the shadows, maybe between the toilet and bathtub, I saw a grey cat. It was a cat from my past. I called out to the cat, "by name," "Grey Cat! Grey Cat!"
I must have knelt. But I was disappointed: the cat didn't show up. I thought I must just have imagined it.
Now a cat crawled up from behind me, onto my back, then around one of my shoulders and onto my face. It did all of this in a cuddling way, to be loving. I "saw" that the cat was cream-colored or white with thick, giraffe-like spots of lemon-yellow or golden yellow. I was still disappointed that this cat wasn't "my old Grey Cat," and that it was instead "Yellow Cat," whom I also knew.
I called to "Yellow Cat" a couple times. I worried briefly about getting a cat disease from the cat having gotten too close to my mouth. The cat hopped off me and walked either into a kitchen or through a (closed?) screen door leading to a backyard.
Now the people were here. There was a small crowd of people. They were some of my coworkers. But there were also some characters from the TV show Arrested Development. My old boss PG led the group.
PG asked me, "Where are all the animals?" I felt like she meant puppies, two to four of them, very small, which this group of people had come to take to the pound. I'm pretty sure PG didn't mean Grey Cat and Yellow Cat.
I now knew I hadn't been able to pull together the money to keep "the animals." But I knew now that I had to keep "the animals," for the sake of Grey Cat and Yellow Cat. So I made one last attempt to pull the money together.
We were all in a room with no windows. Light came into the room only through a doorway just off from the bathroom. I stood over a square, wooden table with a thin top and thin legs. A wide, foolscap-like sheet of tan-white paper lay across almost the entirety of the table. It said, $1,300, which was all the money I had pulled together.
I was about to tell everybody, "This is all I have. What else can I do?"
But one of the people, possibly Michael from Arrested Development, stopped me before I spoke. He said, "Is that all you have? I don't think so. Look down there. We wrote $17,000 on the paper."
I looked down and looked up. I was incredibly relieved. It looked like everybody else was relieved, too.
Dream 1
I was in a living room in a small house. It was day, and the light in the house was dim from the windows. I don't know for sure who or what I was in the house for, though I might have been waiting for someone in particular.
I heard a noise from the bathroom. It sounded like a mean animal. I was afraid, but I walked to the bathroom.
Out of the shadows, maybe between the toilet and bathtub, I saw a grey cat. It was a cat from my past. I called out to the cat, "by name," "Grey Cat! Grey Cat!"
I must have knelt. But I was disappointed: the cat didn't show up. I thought I must just have imagined it.
Now a cat crawled up from behind me, onto my back, then around one of my shoulders and onto my face. It did all of this in a cuddling way, to be loving. I "saw" that the cat was cream-colored or white with thick, giraffe-like spots of lemon-yellow or golden yellow. I was still disappointed that this cat wasn't "my old Grey Cat," and that it was instead "Yellow Cat," whom I also knew.
I called to "Yellow Cat" a couple times. I worried briefly about getting a cat disease from the cat having gotten too close to my mouth. The cat hopped off me and walked either into a kitchen or through a (closed?) screen door leading to a backyard.
Now the people were here. There was a small crowd of people. They were some of my coworkers. But there were also some characters from the TV show Arrested Development. My old boss PG led the group.
PG asked me, "Where are all the animals?" I felt like she meant puppies, two to four of them, very small, which this group of people had come to take to the pound. I'm pretty sure PG didn't mean Grey Cat and Yellow Cat.
I now knew I hadn't been able to pull together the money to keep "the animals." But I knew now that I had to keep "the animals," for the sake of Grey Cat and Yellow Cat. So I made one last attempt to pull the money together.
We were all in a room with no windows. Light came into the room only through a doorway just off from the bathroom. I stood over a square, wooden table with a thin top and thin legs. A wide, foolscap-like sheet of tan-white paper lay across almost the entirety of the table. It said, $1,300, which was all the money I had pulled together.
I was about to tell everybody, "This is all I have. What else can I do?"
But one of the people, possibly Michael from Arrested Development, stopped me before I spoke. He said, "Is that all you have? I don't think so. Look down there. We wrote $17,000 on the paper."
I looked down and looked up. I was incredibly relieved. It looked like everybody else was relieved, too.
Thursday, February 16, 2017
(4/16/06) a family of prostitutes; my lesbian manager
(Entered in paper journal at 8:12 AM at Starbucks on 1st Street and 7th Avenue in Brooklyn.)
Dream 1
I was with a family. We were in a confused apartment complex, out on the balconies, walking to "our new apartment." I was with the kids, but I wasn't quite a kid. I feel like I was just a spectator, immaterial.
But then I was "hanging over the shoulder" of a man like Michael Bluth from the TV show Arrested Development. The man watched two male adults leading the two children. The two men may have looked like Gob and Tobias.
The two men stood before the new apartment. One of them had a strap-on dildo and led the other into the apartment. He told "Michael/me," "Keep an eye on the kids. He and I have some business to take care of.
I was in a dark room lilt only with a deep blue light. The two kids sat on the floor. There were a boy and a girl. The girl was younger than thirteen but was very tall and emaciated. She wore trashy clothes and had a life-worn despair in her eyes. The boy wasn't much more than a vague entity. The boy and girl sat across from each other, playing a game like cards, using chips for counters.
I walked through a dark hall to find the two men, to see if they had finished their business. I saw them in another dark blue room, getting ready to have sex. I walked out, making some deadpan "Michael Bluth" remark. The dildo, by the way, was glow-in-the-dark. As I headed back I thought momentarily, Why would two men need to use a dildo for sex?
I arrived back in the kids' room. I realized now that all the members of this family were prostituting themselves -- the children probably at least a little against their will. The men had moved away from the old apartment because they needed to find newer, less trashed-out customers. I was disgusted by it all.
I now stood out on another apartment complex balcony, talking with someone I didn't see. He asked me, "But if Michael Bluth was living with these guys now, where is his family, and why don't they visit him?"
I (as Michael Bluth) said, "Don't you see? It's dramatically feasible because each member of the family is paralleled by each member of this family."
I stood by myself in front of the family's old apartment. A man with huge, frizzy hair walked up the long staircase to me. He smiled and said something like, "Hi! What are you doing right now?" The guy looked strung out.
The guy thought that by standing here I was making myself available for sex. I was about to tell him no. I wanted to get angry and yell. But I was so afraid and disgusted by everything that I didn't even want to acknowledge the existence of any of it.
Some man walked up from the left. He had to go down and then up a flight of steps. He said to the guy, "You have the wrong place. This guy doesn't do the kind of business you're looking for. Come with me and I'll help you out."
The second guy looked at me and smiled genuinely. He was clean-cut, but a little sunburned and hardened. He acted slightly effeminate.
Dream 2
I was in something like a gondola riding down a suspension track into a tall, sparkling city at night. I was like an invisible spectator. A woman, maybe twenty-five years old, sat next to a younger woman, maybe a girl between seventeen and nineteen years old. The older woman was trying to hit on the younger woman.
The women had seen a lesbian who was kind of on the ugly side. The older woman asked the girl questions about the ugly woman to make the girl say she thought the older woman was pretty, even sexually attractive. When the girl finally said something like that, the woman said, "Well, I think you're even prettier and more attractive than that."
The girl knew where this was heading now. But she was going along with it. Part of her felt like she shouldn't. But mostly she was rather malleable. The girl's appearance was now like a doll, a two-or-three-foot-tall, Victorian-style, porcelain doll with huge, blue eyes. I was kind of jaded and disappointed by the whole scene. I had hoped I would be able to be with the girl.
I was a worker in a cafe in the enormous town. It was a dim, elegant place made of wood, like a bar. We may also have sold ice cream.
My coworkers were talking about the new manager. She was apparently a tall woman, athletic, and incredibly beautiful. She was a lesbian, possibly the woman on the gondola. The coworkers, all guys, were all genuinely talking about what a genuinely good manager the woman was. I was flustered. I didn't want to hear that a woman, especially a lesbian who took a girl I was attracted to, was such a good person and manager.
I tried to make some qualifications to the guys' statements as I swept the floor and wiped off the bar with a wet dishcloth. But the guys kept refuting me and saying, "No. She's really good. She's made a million improvements on XXXXX already."
Now as I was sweeping under a table by some mirror walls, the new manager walked in. She said something really nice to all of us, also implying good-naturedly that she knew I had expressed my doubts. I kept silent. But, a little against my will, I thought, Actually, I guess she is pretty cool!
Dream 1
I was with a family. We were in a confused apartment complex, out on the balconies, walking to "our new apartment." I was with the kids, but I wasn't quite a kid. I feel like I was just a spectator, immaterial.
But then I was "hanging over the shoulder" of a man like Michael Bluth from the TV show Arrested Development. The man watched two male adults leading the two children. The two men may have looked like Gob and Tobias.
The two men stood before the new apartment. One of them had a strap-on dildo and led the other into the apartment. He told "Michael/me," "Keep an eye on the kids. He and I have some business to take care of.
I was in a dark room lilt only with a deep blue light. The two kids sat on the floor. There were a boy and a girl. The girl was younger than thirteen but was very tall and emaciated. She wore trashy clothes and had a life-worn despair in her eyes. The boy wasn't much more than a vague entity. The boy and girl sat across from each other, playing a game like cards, using chips for counters.
I walked through a dark hall to find the two men, to see if they had finished their business. I saw them in another dark blue room, getting ready to have sex. I walked out, making some deadpan "Michael Bluth" remark. The dildo, by the way, was glow-in-the-dark. As I headed back I thought momentarily, Why would two men need to use a dildo for sex?
I arrived back in the kids' room. I realized now that all the members of this family were prostituting themselves -- the children probably at least a little against their will. The men had moved away from the old apartment because they needed to find newer, less trashed-out customers. I was disgusted by it all.
I now stood out on another apartment complex balcony, talking with someone I didn't see. He asked me, "But if Michael Bluth was living with these guys now, where is his family, and why don't they visit him?"
I (as Michael Bluth) said, "Don't you see? It's dramatically feasible because each member of the family is paralleled by each member of this family."
I stood by myself in front of the family's old apartment. A man with huge, frizzy hair walked up the long staircase to me. He smiled and said something like, "Hi! What are you doing right now?" The guy looked strung out.
The guy thought that by standing here I was making myself available for sex. I was about to tell him no. I wanted to get angry and yell. But I was so afraid and disgusted by everything that I didn't even want to acknowledge the existence of any of it.
Some man walked up from the left. He had to go down and then up a flight of steps. He said to the guy, "You have the wrong place. This guy doesn't do the kind of business you're looking for. Come with me and I'll help you out."
The second guy looked at me and smiled genuinely. He was clean-cut, but a little sunburned and hardened. He acted slightly effeminate.
Dream 2
I was in something like a gondola riding down a suspension track into a tall, sparkling city at night. I was like an invisible spectator. A woman, maybe twenty-five years old, sat next to a younger woman, maybe a girl between seventeen and nineteen years old. The older woman was trying to hit on the younger woman.
The women had seen a lesbian who was kind of on the ugly side. The older woman asked the girl questions about the ugly woman to make the girl say she thought the older woman was pretty, even sexually attractive. When the girl finally said something like that, the woman said, "Well, I think you're even prettier and more attractive than that."
The girl knew where this was heading now. But she was going along with it. Part of her felt like she shouldn't. But mostly she was rather malleable. The girl's appearance was now like a doll, a two-or-three-foot-tall, Victorian-style, porcelain doll with huge, blue eyes. I was kind of jaded and disappointed by the whole scene. I had hoped I would be able to be with the girl.
I was a worker in a cafe in the enormous town. It was a dim, elegant place made of wood, like a bar. We may also have sold ice cream.
My coworkers were talking about the new manager. She was apparently a tall woman, athletic, and incredibly beautiful. She was a lesbian, possibly the woman on the gondola. The coworkers, all guys, were all genuinely talking about what a genuinely good manager the woman was. I was flustered. I didn't want to hear that a woman, especially a lesbian who took a girl I was attracted to, was such a good person and manager.
I tried to make some qualifications to the guys' statements as I swept the floor and wiped off the bar with a wet dishcloth. But the guys kept refuting me and saying, "No. She's really good. She's made a million improvements on XXXXX already."
Now as I was sweeping under a table by some mirror walls, the new manager walked in. She said something really nice to all of us, also implying good-naturedly that she knew I had expressed my doubts. I kept silent. But, a little against my will, I thought, Actually, I guess she is pretty cool!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)