Tuesday, July 06, 2004
Sheep Dip
The sheep are starting to get uppity; mostly Spanky.
I remember the days when we use to frolic and play and dance and be whismical and throw up and run about singing showtunes and giggling like school girls.
Lately, Spanky has taken to the whiskey, and has been quite abusive. Spanky doubts our mission, and it makes me sad to think that such a soul, once pure and innocent, has taken to sourness and nastiness and jokes about my freakish body odor.
It is times like this that I begin to lose hope, and long for the simply days of selling used fruit with nary a care in the world.
I remember the days when we use to frolic and play and dance and be whismical and throw up and run about singing showtunes and giggling like school girls.
Lately, Spanky has taken to the whiskey, and has been quite abusive. Spanky doubts our mission, and it makes me sad to think that such a soul, once pure and innocent, has taken to sourness and nastiness and jokes about my freakish body odor.
It is times like this that I begin to lose hope, and long for the simply days of selling used fruit with nary a care in the world.
