scanning the floor for leftover appendages.
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Wednesday, June 11, 2003 Headers Are SoSpoonkey, just you hang on there. Just hang it in. Keep it on the down-low, don't over do it. Watch your butt and make sure the balls keep rolling. Unless that's someone else's job. Just stay the face, lean into the turns, and watch out for angry patients. Hold steady on the mast, tack into the wind, piss into the vinegar, slide on home. You'll get all through it, you'll come out glowsy on the other ride, you'll hold your dead upright, with flighty colors and on banded knave. A huckleberry in the bush is worth eight in the eye. All good things must heal by time and time itself alone amongst the many splendored thing of beauty. Put the cusps on the railing and steer toward the curb. Set the controls for the hump of the skunk, bide your time until you see the yellows of their I's, fold, findle, fusilate, buy a ticket to ride the boogie-board fantraffic. Set up shop and sell a cookie. Continue on and bear to the right. You'll come to a light, you want to go through that, then immediately afterward you'll see a statue of Ron Feedleman on your left (he was the manager of the personnel department from March through August of '77), the bench I'm talking about is right behind that. Sit there for a while, brush your jacket off, watch for beetles, then take a deep break and constitute a new form of government. It's all uphill from there! You're homed free and a third of the half is better than none at all. Rest uneasily there, keeping one rock to the battle and piling down the fort. Miracles can happen and only you can prevent them! News at Fifteen. posted by Kingo Sleemer | 4:38 PM |
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