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So, a guy just walked in. This is unusual. Hardly anyone around here has legs, other than some of the spiders.
A guy started talking to me. Says we met once. Doesn't resemble the guy I see in the mirror most days, so I have no way to check.
Big trucks have big tires. I'm not a big guy so I'm not required to have a big peepee, but I kinda do. In case you need to know. But I never talk about it, except with friends. Want to be my friend?
For a guy less than six feet tall I have an uncommonly rich fantasy life. Some of it may include you.
Starting tomorrow, bright and early, I'm going to make something of myself. Like a cuckoo clock. I already have the coo, and some feathers, and I know a guy who sells beaks wholesale. The rest shouldn't be too hard then.
That crazy guy who lives down the street came by to say that he's still crazy. I offered him a sandwich. When he got tired of talking to it he burned his pants. Probably did him good.
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Me? Still gnawing at the ropes.
