2005-11-20 - 7:12 a.m.
The island restaurant took a nosedive after too much profanity in the stall text left by cretins, the margins once profitable, replaced by fine steels of all kinds. Always just before explosion, the excitement of new land with hot chicks and Denny's sponsored by norepinephrine. Managing energy distibution to grids along the only river to come for a a rat's teeth of counties, oh my me. The Sound comes in at a perfect distance when the moon goes down. The moon was a Rabbit for sometime, now it says Coca Cola on Tuesdays and Thursdays followed by Pepsi Cola Friday nights but to my way of thinking, it's a Magical sack of groceries, for I've come to find out that I've spent my afternoons indulging in "gastroporn." The moon was mentioned in some of the books that helped invent childhood. Children learning to read in the morning over Various degrees of albumin in eggs, depending on what story their parents could afford. Paid by the hour, many a childs parents have had to leave dangerour jobs. When they quit their jobs, the boss asked, "Are you kidding me?" The pregnant Balinese artist trying to hock her wares in America, patiently standing in the seminal light.
