The pinks mill about, awaiting the arrival of their officers (seen filing in from below right in the above photo). Soon roll call will be taken, announcements made, and the pinks will disperse to their assigned lookout posts. Keep safe, little pinks, and God speed.
Mervis Plelmorkler contemplated snowy egrets. Completing contemplation, he practiced contortions. Contortions taken care of, he welded himself a sandwich. Lunch over, he filled out the application to legally change his name. Laying aside the pen, he muttered his newly chosen name aloud. “Marty Prassmalleter,” he said, smiling his secret smile, the one with handlebars.
Yes, the loon’s refrigerator is covered with Fiddleeebodlian character sketches made by the loon’s saner persona. Yes, no loon abode is complete without a poster of Jean Harlow tastefully placed on the floor. Yes, that hard edge oil pastel there executed by the loon in his youth is entitled “Strange Window”.
“En garde,” said the sprinkler to the rainbow, and they fought until they were maimed into bleeding bits of hamburger.
When It’s Laundry Stabbing Time in Pennsylvania I Love the Sounds of Tugboats in Her Hair
“What tends to make me laugh makes other people eye me warily,” said the troubled meat inspector to an assembly of his favorite teapots. Then he laughed uproariously. His psychiatrist eyed him warily.
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Doc's Lunacy
5 of 5 stars to The Great Train Robbery by Michael Crichton goodreads.com/review/show/55…
