|By Auntieminda on Sunday, February 03, 2002 - 09:32 am: Edit|
Pleased to meet ya, I'm shuah.
|By Verawench on Sunday, February 03, 2002 - 09:10 am: Edit|
Thank you for that, Lars.
|By Auntieminda on Sunday, February 03, 2002 - 08:49 am: Edit|
that was beautiful...and no, I'm not being sarcastic...props where they are deserved...
|By Drbeer on Sunday, February 03, 2002 - 12:33 am: Edit|
hmm alrighty then!
|By Larsbogart on Sunday, February 03, 2002 - 12:03 am: Edit|
ive got to stop hallucinating.
toto ran back to the farm. from inside my room we saw kalisti on miss gultch's bike. she was wearing the striped socks of the wicked witch of the west, comin from the east. the window got sucked in and hit me on the head.
i woke up in the old west. a pack of wild mustangs sped by. i saw them in infancy exaggerating in snow. the leader was alabaster with a ruby mane. her name was 409. nothing could touch her nothing could catch her. i started after them to remove the barbed wire bracelet on her hoof.
george w's pubic shave it said. greek and roman women came out.
i passed a mirror and to my horror running behind me was marilyn monroe in a skin tight polka dot dress. i didnt want her troubles to be grim. but i had to keep running after the wild pack. i had a rope in my hands and almost caught up with the mustangs.
becuse of the shoes i was wearing i didnt know how to stop. i was neck and neck with 409.
"you're always usin flowery language" she said.
"thanks marilyn, i reckon."
she wants to know where i fit in.
old horses necks by broken fences. guns gone to rust. i guess the gang got shot.
kid dream hid in the leaves.
drive the cattle through that silver wall. melt in the sun. i guess i better run on back to whiskey road colorado and marry an old tim mccoy gal. or turn off the television 1.
gotta go a long way in the west to find a good drink.
so close the book.
april 1958. northport
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