letter to Bush

Though it isn't raining, an elderberry bush told him that it might.

Try listening: No WaR Park will be either talking on the telephone or typing.

White board on wall, garden on the Black Island Trail, we're all going to die.

Time is on.

That explains why my bowels went south on Wednesday instead of Tuesday.

First person, best person.

Chico is still sleeping, so is Harp.

Pick a poem, any poem.

Chico may be late.

Paragraph.

We'll get things going again in 20 minutes.

Hangs up the telephone and says loudly, "If you're Australian, help your fucking self!"

But don't leave until those reports done.

15-year-old creatina looking for Rodefer and getting gray hair.