smudgeloco

with acrimonious alacrity

as a mountain

and wild abandonment.

To borrow some phraseology from Dame Edna. We might be getting long in the tooth, and things may fade into memory - yet we still have our juices! And you, kind sir, you have stirred my pot, and my juices are flowing.

sludge sucking feeders.

like all moving

tired of commuting

fireman's pole dancing

cut high at

wide-eyed legless, insomniacs

of stinking unmentionables

cut high at

the best seats

in darkest corners.

the Thursday regular