There shouldn’t be anything between the legs.

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Don’t curse it, don’t jynx it. Even that is only one degree of separation. That’s far too close. But I’m not good at higher degrees of separation.

Milk thistle. Wet bucket. Capable, but flawed. Never mind the intruders. Intrudors. In-trubadoors. Doers. Makes dandy, makes feline, makes cake. Can’t stand the rattle.

Ck-tattle ranchorz. Habit spring, springstop. Corner obfuscation, make way with tow in dundertow. In fortitude, in habituation to the sleepless corners. Chokes on gum, at the spirit out of the street lights. Brithr na star. Caught on, caught hold, made it look easy. I don’t know I don’t frequent on Mondays.

It’s not a Monday.

This is not a loves oong.

Why the fuck are there so many Magic cards. Holy cowmoly fuck totally.

Iz nice.

I’ll be back.

Thanks guys.