It is Friday: Go Right Ahead
Life. In the bleachers.
No, no, gibberish with halos.
After a month’s sobriety my faculties became unbearably acute and I found myself unhealthily clairvoyant.
Make me a lovable drink.
Make me toxified.
First, catch the tuna. Then chop the tuna!
I need a pilgrimage.
Put a cork in my lunch, please.
Why does man feel so sad today?
Me? Mirror gloss on a shoe.
Alcohol guarantees that bad news will come true.
I said please!