You ask me what I would order if I could have any dish at all? How about a plate of creamed spinach, served on a Maserati? Hold the spinach, but maybe I could use the plate for something, I don't know, not going to worry about it, unless I get really hungry.
Yes, I did meet a woman. I met a woman. Who didn't run away screaming. When she saw me. So my spirits rose. Considerably, mostly. She was in a shop window. Didn't twitch or even bat an eye. They were painted on and full of permanent meaning. I'll have to get back there. See if she still feels the same. About me. This may be my chance. At big romance. I hope, I do.
Yeah — monkey juice is pretty good for a lot of things, but it has to be fresh-squeezed, and you need the unpasteurized stuff. You can tell you've got the real item because it has hair in it. Maybe even some turds.
Would you be doing it if no one was watching? Captain Telepromter wants to know. No one else does though.
Wild Bill Hiccup — could never sneak up on anyone. Later became a standup accountant. Maybe you've never heard of him.
Why is it that composers of classical music are the only ones to have noisy movements? I do too, but nobody performs mine. Or even wants to listen. Even for free. Is it the grunting? The location? Something about me being a solo performer? Should I get a baton to keep time and move things along? Change my diet? What?
Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@gmail.com
Me? I always keep my flippers well oiled. You betcha.
