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March 10, 2005



"I’m just going to give it to you verbatim," said the blind man as he ate the indian pudding prescribe by his pediatrict ophthalmologist doctor for the 24 hour flu bug. "Just subject, pronouns, no don’t object, pronouns," he said, "like 'she was peeing in the woods.'”




I had just gotten over the intolerable cruelty of the 24 hour stomach bug where I spent most of my time in the zone near the red bathtub and laundry room spraying febreze odor eliminator on every object in my wake including my new Parkour t-shirt, when I wandered outside like a blind man to fetch our dog who was peeing in the woods near my daughter Lisa, who with her ipod meme on, sorted by song title and on low audio, was happily singing a John Coltrane song verbatim, the title and lyrics which now escape me, challenged me to make my own snowflake, or at least to help her make her own snowflake, but I was still reeling in back pain after having fallen off the funny bar stools I recently purchased for the kitchen in order to be able to sit and check the answering machine more often, when I came across a pediatric magazine left, or perhaps forgotten, by our obviously sex crazed ophthalmologist friend from Fremont along with the recipe cards for Indian pudding and shark cake I had inquired about on his last visit when all of a sudden, or presto, out the magazine fell a pornograph(ic) cartoon, a story he had obviously written with the title ³Penis Land² accompanied by a another article with the title ³Just Play Me² which leads me to conclude this dear friend has less problems with just subject pronouns, object pronouns and inquiry versus enquiry than he does with his storylines.


Oops - meant to post this comment here:

At first, I thought I would sit on the funny bar stools eating indian pudding and shark cake while deciding how to make my own snowflake, but thought perhaps you, while sitting in your cartoon bathtub scented with febreze odor eliminator, recovering from a 24 hour stomach bug you caught in penis land while she was peeing in the woods, would be better suited to make your own snowflake .


Sex, red zone said the blind man, and I dreamed we were in a cartoon bathtub in penis land, while she was peeing in the woods and the 24 hour stomach bug sat atop funny bar stools, munching on shark cake, indian pudding and parkour presto (the virus thought it read pesto, but that's what comes of learning subject and object pronouns from febreze laundry odor eliminator) and when I aked for a pornograph story, you were doing the ipod meme sort by song title so I had to make my own snowflake, the answering machine intolerable cruelty audio ringing in my ears.


“Make your own snowflake,” said the blind man, Mr. Parkour Presto, in the cartoon bathtub, while his ipod, Meme, sorted ditties like “Just Play Me John Coltrane Back” by song title, “but don’t let the febreze laundry odor eliminator touch the shark cake on the funny bar stools, or you’ll get a cruelty audio 24-hour stomach bug, which will make the answering machine intolerable to hear, and make you wish you lived in penis land.”

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