08/24/2008: "I can't fight this feeling anymore"
...there's grut upon the floor...from caaa-ats...
Yeah. An 80s songwriter I ain't.
The massive cleanup after holidays has just begun, but you don't want to hear about that. You want to hear about all kinds of other stuff, like the mum who chimed: "Don't make the zombies laugh, now, sweetheart".
Unfortunately, the only thing I have to tell you is that I've had this line percolating in my head for the past two weeks. I'm not even really sure what it's going to be a line *for*, but it goes something like this:
Her rattling breath, shifting through dry wheat stalks...
That's all I have for you today. I've been taken over by thoughts of next year's costumes and games that I want to play.
"My hands felt just like two balloons" "I didn't sign up for this, Steve."
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