Wednesday, March 08, 2006

To My Eye-Hand Coordination

My problems with elevators in the morning even when empty aftershave’s full olfact and thinking Amelie of other people’s affectations am the first to jab the point of our destination in common to a degree of plot-foiling holdover years accidentally preserved in the center of a restaurant most vulnerable to attack in case of ninjas be seated with no back turned in case of ninja attacks I want to be reading Schuyler instead of trouble shooting a very Brady nine-part square asking what constitutes interaction bonusly asking “what time of year do most tornadoes ocurre [sic]“ from Wichita —now— into the basement in fact.


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