ya, whar’s my self-taught monkey? and when’s he goin’ to? sprinting outwardly. or vice verso, you cold shoulder. when the aesthetics please, what then, and when does anything…
*note* look in public domaincicle. *note*
under the new coat of paint, where’s the rust now?
I think I saw that monkey skating on a thawing pond of his own excrement.
filing that under q, ya…
leave your file drawers at home, missy.