drunken shoutouts: a collaborative audioblog

Writing is but a passing fancy of mine. The truest aim of my moments, the goal that drives my sweat and muscle, the only girl who's eyes still my soul, is the mastery of the art of leaving drunken phone messages. All else is nothing but distraction, faded confetti dodging empty branches in a stiff autumn breeze. William Faulkner

via metafilter