May 2010
0 posts
A Rambling For A Class
Smores are made in the night, evaporate in this weather like that of the lilacs trajectory.
Am I to ramble and list these words as solemnly as Garfield does about his weight? This the gory truth, G-Cat, its not flattering to be cranky, the senselessness of these words, words like machinations, straught, puts me in an atmospheres of confusion, one so bad that if Shredder ran in here, the...
