i have been told that i am horrible at telling stories.
by most people, most of the time.
for example:
on one hand, you are given a pit with alligators.
on the other, you are given me trying to dribble something that may resemble a tale of some sort.
let's just say that i am more likely to make friends with the ones that think i am tasty. you know, the ones that i think belong in my life only as boots. ...or as animatronic disneyland entertainment.
it's not something with which i am concerned, more so, i fear for your eyes [and eyesight for that matter], your cognitive functioning, those minutes that you spend looking at lines that in all honesty, you should have spent doing something else. regardless, perhaps there will be something of sustenance, something to see...but not now at least. right now there is nothing. except for maybe some thoughts and brain pictures of two grown men intently reading 'glamour' magazine at borders close to mid-day.
