The cold is sharp against my skin. Lovingly, sweetly, affectionately sharp. Sharp like the bowl of razor blades I had for breakfast. Bowl of razor blades, bowl of cheetos. Cheetos and milk. Eat the cheetos with chopsticks, one chopstick's a straw. For the milk. The orange, tangy, vile cheeto milk. As opposed to cheetah milk. Which makes you fast.
Constance Nonsense
Judy Thorburglar, who steals your thunder.
I've made myself fast, pinned my flag to the ground. Full of notions and sundries. Sundried tomatoes, sundered and roasted. Forgotten. If I had an A.I. I'd name it Albert, for The Stranger. Or maybe Willie, for the same reason.
One day left.
Constance Nonsense
Judy Thorburglar, who steals your thunder.
I've made myself fast, pinned my flag to the ground. Full of notions and sundries. Sundried tomatoes, sundered and roasted. Forgotten. If I had an A.I. I'd name it Albert, for The Stranger. Or maybe Willie, for the same reason.
One day left.
1 comment:
I once fasted on cheetahs' milk and all I got was the runs.
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