will forgive me one day, for the terrible jokes that I will illustrate. On Saturday, more cold day in the history of the modern world, I was going to travel to brooklyn, reaching the line L, through the Meatpacking District on foot, regardless of the polar wind. Armed with machine
photo, with new Energizer batteries (as usual). Drawn with pen type pen, than we lefties hate with all my heart. With a page, white, folded. Ice in my pocket. All of this for you.
Forgetting my subscription, I do not pay, I pay two extra dollars for a ticket that I use in error, except to find that the L line was closed until Monday. Undeterred, in the cold and asking for directions, maps arrovellomi up, try alternative paths, vainly, foolishly. He ran, finally, inexorably, in defeat.
Nothing secret loft party with Weird War, no pictures, no autographs with a dedication to you. I did everything that I could, but no man may lay before the vastness of the power of `bad luck.
imperishable
G.
0 comments:
Post a Comment