Tuesday, February 6, 2018

Louder Music, Finer Opium

Well, sir, having been sliced and diced, fried, dyed and laid to the side, folded, spindled and mutilated, run over, run down and run ragged- here comes Valentine's Day. If cupid sees his shadow I don't see my heart until April fools' day. I'll be glad when this silliness is over.

Sometimes I worry, whatever will I do when my beauty fades? How will I make my living? Then I remember, I don't have any beauty. I don't do anything. You call this a living?

The simple minded always seemed pure of heart in my eyes. Then came politics.

Enjoy every biscuit, sweet girl.

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