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Insomnia and Aussies.
Perfect.
And to think I was trying to keep a grip on Reality.
Personally, I think there is too little being done about the turtles. You can ignore the issue all you want, but there it is. And the newts are in the same boat. When was the last time anyone said anything constructive about the newts? Well, sure, the turtles do, but you don't see them getting any respect for it. And then there are the frogs. Look at the mess they're in. The toads are even worse off. People licking them all over the place, it's no wonder they've all got the flu. Next thing you know, they'll be off violating the produce. Touching the tomatoes. Fingering the fennel. Groping the grapes. You'll see! Beets! Verily, it shall be a day that will live in infamy! Vinyl siding and all! Urinating in the pool of human events without thought of the wallpaper! Remember when it was safe to lick a nice patch of wallpaper? No more! Gone the way of the potted iguana and the inflatable squid! They lay rabbits upon the loins of polite society and grin! Garnish? Don't think for a minute that the chipmunks aren't keeping track of every sperm that can't be found! They're checking up on every one! These little town blues are pissing me off, watch and see. Crabs, rodents, crunchy hen if not for beer! Five for a dollar at Safeway ain't a dollar for five at noon, menopause be damned? For more than leaven gears logo, far north brothers gathered in their masses and then are villified for their gases! You can start forest fires if not for the knees. Group colonoscopies available, photographer on site. Limber waves of groin. Purple Nomesque's fantasies against the windowpane. Harmonica. Queen Victoria drank for the love of a good riding lawnmower. Hamperdamp. Waffles abound without recourse. Boxers, briefs or iPads, it all sticks to the wall if thrown. No place for gnomes. Adrian shines down upon the witless, hairless and golden brown, lightly fried in canola oil. If not for our armpits then for an elves. House salad, please. Vinegar and water. The summer wind, from out thine own shorts it blew.
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