desert. the final box. these are the voyages of sponge and his continuing mission to wake up breadroll, seek out blokks and to boldly go…
why didn’t you record the whole thing?
well, said sponge, i thought we could make it a project, like, finding out what happened.
that’s a terrible idea.
on days like this sponge felt very alone, and in his mind he depicted a cross, made entirely of bread, a block of wood as a foot rest and a beer can as the shiny head piece.
now hang on, where does the beer come into the equation?
after the = sign, i’ll drop you an email.
the Book of Sponge and Others.
annabloom.
passion of sponge
- kindness of strangers
- some lives are worse than others but the stories are all the same
- anything is good for something in the end
- we don’t like days and are at odds with nights
- inflate or deflate or put on another show
- egg and a query
- come to mention it a melody sounds like the other
- a legend is born
- somewhere would be something else now
- the trail of art

26 February, 2004




