(4 pm. – promoted by ek hornbeck)
We came, we saw, he died.
Let’s all “drop trou” and whiz.
Weenie, widdie, whizzie.
“Golden slumbers fill your eyes,
Sleep, pretty darling, do not cry.”
They draft nineteen-year olds for a reason.
By definition, they haven’t carried that weight
A long time; gittin’ back home
is just a plane ride away, innit?
But the cranial walled-vaults and basements are
the entire home entertainment section,
hallucinatory surround, boss graphics,
gutsy plots, and that now wrenching
circle of fifths, beautiful and sad.
2 comments
Author
at minor sevenths, unless they are an impresario of sound, or a psychopath.
There, I said it. Bring the blades. Let the tomatoes fight it out in the blender.
Author
I don’t use paypal, cuz they’re dicks, plus additionals.
Where would an impeccably-dressed person send a physical representation of value?
for the hamsters, of course.
I have left my email address previously, but lemme know if you need it agin.