Jack Fisher

Went out to GC Pub for a couple of beers. Two was enough for me after I totally shanked the 8 ball and scratched -- once again.  A couple of local girls sweating out to the tune of the Black Eye Peas really wasn't my scene for tonight. Just a beer and maybe a smoke coulda dunnit.

The rainy season is upon Hanoi and those pesky mosquitos are coming out of the woodwork.  I mean really coming out -- flying into your eyes and nose and mouth kinda coming out.

Seems like I might have to cut short the fairy tale and head back to the States. As the son of first generation immigrants, it's the cards I was born with, to provide in some small ways, financial stability for the folks.

Hanoi is damp.  Damp with the smell of mildew on the streets and on your clothes.  Particularly in this changing of winter to spring.

Just want to give a shout to gogogirl's experimental writing journal. She has some interesting workshop stuff in there. GG is one of those people I wished I knew better ('wikb') in high school. Seems like in the past couple of years, a lot of wikb

It's hard to hold onto the inspiration though. You have to will it, tease it to come out  — you have to grab hold of its throat and strangle it into submission, into something that is domesticated, something that you can draw out at will, something so natural that it ceases to become necessary.