When the drunken bricklayer finished building this wall, his clever wife convinced the client to pay up anyway by spinning out the old artistic vision philosophy statement of world despair and hope ploy. In fact, she scored double the job estimate fee. Clever indeed, and an excellent skater to boot, I might add, and, obviously, have done so.
Leading its demons in fertility leaps, The Bread of Life danced across the fields. Subsiding at the road, it waved the demons to rest.
“That oughta take care of things for a while,” said The Bread of Life.
“Can we go home now, then?” asked a particularly vile little demon, the one with green phlegm dripping from its ears and bladder.
“Hold your horses, Disgusto. First I’m treatin’ everybody to ice cream!” said The Bread of Life.
“Yay!” enthused the demons.
Into the Baskin Robbins the repulsive mob oozed. Each ordered a single scoop of the finest vanilla in a cup, imagination not being a feature of note in the typical demon personality. The Bread of Life, to be sure, ordered a triple scoop banana split, though it must be reported that all three scoops were vanilla. After the frighteningly horrid group had tossed the empty and licked spotless cups into the recycle receptacle, The Bread of Life ushered the demons back to Hell before making its own way to its castle somewhere east of the West Wind.
“That’s what I call a right proper day,” mumbled The Bread of Life, and it settled into its breadbox and pulled the cloth of gold around it.
This is a briny close up look at a tiny area in the upper left corner of the loon’s favorite painting. What painting is it? Why is it the loon’s favorite? It’s Ed Manet’s Bar at the Folies-Bergere. It’s the loon’s favorite because of the disembodied trapeze artist’s legs hanging down. The pink pantaloons. The green shoes. I rest my case.
Janet Gaynor struggles to keep her head up under the 50 pound weight of her solid lead hat.
His face was heavy, as if little bags of sand had been painlessly sewn into various parts of it, dragging the features away from the bones, if he still had bones in his face.
Boy knew from hangovers.
In this picture, Rita, who happened to be the easiest person to hypnotize in the Western Hemisphere of the 1960s, has just read a few sentences of Svengali hypnotizing Trilby in the George DuMaurier novel. She had to be doused with several flagons of ale to bring her out of the trance.
Rita is holding the book:
a. How to Hypnotize Friends and Influence People
b. How to Hypnotize Enemies and Steal Souls
c. How to Hypnotize Animals and Subsequently Eat Them
d. Trilby
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Doc's Lunacy
5 of 5 stars to The Great Train Robbery by Michael Crichton goodreads.com/review/show/55…
