LONG LIVE FLASH! YOU'VE SAVED YOUR EARTH, HAVE A NICE DAY.
Despite the best "efforts" of PTBs various & sundry, the city continues to die after
nine ten (+ accurate, but alliteration makes me all tingly), & doesn't feel threatened by a group containing itself to one quadrant of one Public Square, thus, what baby shampoo benevolence,
look ma, no tears.
Shocking.
A THREATENING DILEMMA
Thirty-seven billion words screaming to spill (ed. note: but not on
that second thing but I'm sure you can have fun in comments I guess just be sure to read the first; that; that; & that other fuck-if-I-know; maybe that;
definitely that), about thirty-six I should, thirteen I will. Is that thirteen? Editor's notes don't count. Lucky day. A shot here & there sit idling, most (ed. note:
some one) better than yesterday's quantity-face-punching-quality gig & attendant lack o' words from your friendly neighborhood lackwit, though still ick.
So, a joke.
Insomnia, booze & ______ walk into a bar. The bartender says [bar joke part 2]. Booze drinks himself to death, & insomnia trips over booze's corpse, falling into an eternal sleep.
Don't ask me what happened to ______.
Always couching the serious in humor. I hate defense mechanisms.
THE EARL PRESENTS, GOOGLE AD HAIKU BY THE DUCHESS
Given my miserable failure as a submission machine -- I'll pause for the inevitable double entendre commentary, you're welcome -- once upon a blue moon I decided that any future batch of versifying will be comprised solely of stanzas molded from the raw clay of gmail Google ads, sure to be a winner in the eyes of the next MFA Bot gatekeeper.
While I continue to avoid getting around to that, enjoy a piece in the same vein from the non-fugly half of Peonage Local no. 13 on one of our favoritest people.
Ford trucks and babies
deer huntin' for the family
offroading Krampus