Sick
May 31, 2006
Someone has taken 60-grit sandpaper to my esophagus.
Then they injected into my skull, through my right ear, a leprechaun that has proceeded to chisel its way out with a bang-bang-banging of its hammer.
Then they clamped clothes pins onto my lymph nodes under my jaw, just for good measure.
And apparently they have removed my attention span, because I don't remember where this was going. So I am headed back to the couch with a blanket, the dog, some 7up and a bendy straw.
2 Comments
This is what you get for skinny dipping.
With hobos.
I refuse to give up my hobo habit. You will have to pry my hobos from my cold, dead fingers.