Well, time shall take care of THAT, my fine furry friend!
I used to be old. But as my belly grows, I think there must be a font of youth inside, for my humors (all four of 'em) and attention span grow more youthful with each passing day. I fear that I was born senile and shall grow infantile. Hopefully breaking waves will wear me down to a smooth, flat stone so that some child can come along and skip me out to sea.
(Tomorrow I'll eat breakfast and be a little more together, I hope.)
ha! patchouli!
(see? i'm losing it. i'm reading and responding impulsively, a post at a time, like a certain rabbit who lurks about...)
How does breakfast make you more together?
Just sends the blood that oughta be in your brain to your belly...
You talking about moi, furbreath?
Ah, you make too much of blood. I need that sense of animal well-being that comes along with a full belly.
The grizzled proprietor of a Greek restaurant I used to go to walked by my table one day, saw my beaming face, and said, "Ah, you have a happy belly!"
(Am very belly-centered today. This is good. Last week I felt as though I might fall over. Maybe later I can lower the center even more -- though I hope old Vasili doesn't swing by with any observations if that pans out...)
And yes, I'm talking 'bout you. What of it?
You wanna be ball centred?
What of it? You talking to me? You talking to ME?
And bloody patchouli is BACK!
Speaking of Greek restaurants, we have a crappy chain here, The Friendly Greek, but I much prefer the independently owned dive, The Unfriendly Greek (it's true, it exists).
beware of Greeks bearing gifts...
Quote:I don't want no aggravation
When my train has left the station
If you're there or not, I may not even know
Have a round and remember
Things we did that weren't so tender
Let the train blow the whistle when I go
On my old guitar sell tickets
So someone can finally pick it
And tell the girls down at the Ritz I said hello
Tell the gossipers and liars
I will see them in the fire
Let the train blow the whistle when I go
Let her blow, let her blow
Long and loud and hard and happy
Let her blow
No regrets, all my debts will be paid
When I get laid
Let her blow, let her blow, let her blow
You'll be left without excuses
For the evils and abuses
Down to today from years and years ago
And have yourself another toke
From my basket full of smoke
And let the train blow the whistle when I go
Let her blow, let her blow
Long and loud and hard and happy
Let her blow
No regrets, all my debts will be paid
When I get laid
Let her blow, let her blow, let her blow
The Man in Black sang it, but I don't know who wrote it. I wanna be a bouncing ball.
(Somebody please jump in and digress....)
Ain't got no digressin' in me today.
Beware of geeks bearing grifts.
There are some great restaurants in Greek Town on the Danforth, although i'm not there often enough to recall the names, however, the best one there is the dessert restaurant--thousands of empty calories, and so little space in the gut . . .
From
Merriam Webster Online
slang : to obtain (money) illicitly (as in a confidence game)
aincha ever seen "The Grifters," rabbit?
Well, yes - but I was not sure that "grift" was the sort of thing that could be carried!
Damn fine film!
how absolute the rabbit is. we must speak by the card or equivocation will chafe us.
