Accessorizing the seared gourd is a deep, warm cream dubbed cheerful cheesecake, which makes me wonder what a depressed cheesecake looks like.
One of the phones buzzes; another one shrieks; the third one retches. When they all go off at once it sounds as if the dog is getting sick. Continue reading
Given that the Norwegian Artist, however, is one of the sanest people I know, his digital reading habits in conjunction with the wielding of his brushes apparently don’t mess with his brain as much as living in constant contact with me.
The Norwegian Artist, however, believes that the Enemy Cold Virus needs to be attacked head on: sweated out, molested, assaulted, crushed, mashed, mangled, forced into unrelenting hard labor, deprived of oxygen, marched to the edge of the precipice and hurtled over the side. Continue reading
