Friday, January 31, 2003

In the midst of a Nyquil induced quasi-stupor, half brother of quasi-modo, no shoes, no shirt, no service.
Was it Esmerelda, the squeeze that brought modo to his knees?
Cough, cough, wheeze, wheeze, not quite a sneeze, vous ne voyez pas.
Screw it, hack it, who cut the cheese?
The keyholes have eyes, and the ayes have it, motion passed, emotion denied.