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Out of context: Reply #1288
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- Gorbie0
i watched the sun rise, and the power lines string the clouds like kabobs on a grill, they burned away. the cigarette pushed into the ash tray and the coffee pot is now home to a fly. i got twelve muffins and they're all covered in fluffy mold.
happy last days of piecing this disparate boy into a professional man. i'll watch it crumble by years end and promise the entire next to get back to where i once was.
Sofia made pasta that would've made even the great Chez Boyardee chuck his can opener.
Never going back there.