Looks like a boyscout tragedy. Be prepared. Yeah, but nobody can prepare you for the 45 degree angle, legs spread above your head, vacuum cleaner with the thin pipe attachment suck.
AHA! I have you now, "Professor" Soderstrom! One cannot BUY toast, one must MAKE it! Thus I deduce that under the silken veil we shall find-
GOOD LORD! I am faint
Tsk. And after all that smoke I blew up your ass yesterday? Sir, you disnobber my foul name. The correct order is actually 4,3,1,2. That is all, thank you for the time you took out of your busy day to come and mill around my creation in full wobble, I know you are a busy bee here at poemranker.com, and, well, to be honest, goes practically unnoticed of late, but there was a time when you would walk, and I would feel it all around me like the falling barometer, but now it's like bringing the special kid over once a week as a sort of neiborhood parent obligation, you know, like "hey, marge, I'll watch timmy for the afternoon it's no problem" then you weasel facts about their sex life from the easilly manipulated handicap boy, because he feels obligated to be honest with you since you are always so nice to him and you push him on the swings while his dad works late, you know what i mean? that's what your visits remind me of now, babysitting the special kid.
6 comments
quite despairing
1. Recycle my cans
2. Find another paper-route
3. Have an abortion
4. Buy some toast
GOOD LORD! I am faint