This Sunday Kenny and I moved furniture for my parents to get him a ‘free’ dryer before we went and bought him a washer. This marked either the fifth or sixth straight weekend that I’d moved really heavy things.

The best part, of course, was when we were halfway up the stairs at Kenny’s apartment and the dryer fell off the handtruck. I was nearly killed! Luckily I pulled a Hulk moment and caught the thing; Kenny and I simply shoved it the rest of the way up the stairs. And this was after the same thing had happened to Kenny on our first attempt, lower on the stairs.

But right now I’m in New York for my sister’s graduation, trapped in the Sheraton in Times Square, using 3G broadband. Save me!

I have a series of prose poetry/non-narrative stories coming up for Jux. Probably this week as I sit here with time to do them.