Wednesday, June 23, 2004
Yes. The grey day, uglier than dog vomit, more powerful than a single mullet, falls inexorably on our monotonous existence. Yes. The dirt turns. The spit shifts. The lambs cry foul to the angry wolves, mouths overflowing. Chicken feathers floating in their gullets. Yes.
Yes. Yes. Previously, and long past, we have added our own illiterate commentary to matters political, to matters commercial, and to matters in re: fish tacos. Yes.
And now. Yes. Monotony is reaped and, like following like, monotony is sown.
Zero follows zero follows zero. The moon and the moon and the moon. And the moon. And the moonotony.
And the --you for your time.
Yes. Let us all return. We return again.
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