bonjour choc chip loaf for supper. now thats a paradox.

the wind ruffled the pages, and drowned the book with tea in milk.
been ages i seen eskimos; still have the looks
that kill.
eaters of raw meat it read. thought i, have they not seen fire, or the acorns of stubby oak trees? and i flipped on with my pudgy fingers. page 386. 20 more to go.

pity the music no one listens to anymore.
whats 13 more days to go.