Monday, July 6, 2020

A Brief Explanation of Today's Concerns.









A set of risers was the subject of a prompting from our soon to be disgraced Mayor. It fell to me to break the news to several of my closest friends that they should not even think about acting so foolishly in the coming days. As for our proposed get-together, we can see that this is no longer even a pipedream. As I thread my way through a collection of vamps, all that comes up is a sappy enactment of each person's version of a nanny-gate's scold-a-thon. At the risk of an audible disclosure, I hold what few are left inside a telltale fixture which is now sealed within a bosun's plate. I can forgive those who threaten to cancel our dinner but I'll never understand what would motivate someone to anticipate a major drop in people's ability to live under this type of incendiary nullification. Their brand awareness is for the birds if you ask me, okay?





When any collection of fragile musketeers is requested not to encircle a rash of brigands and hold them at bay until a senior official is off his meds, then those of us who have never hesitated to count ourselves down to a clean break will try to take some time off in the foreseeable future to wonder just what this thing means to us in our most primitive moments. Because, forgive me for saying this, but I still can't get over the frustration I felt just last week when I tried to hold my own hand in vain. It only takes three or more to enshrine a bastard for life if no one else is having any. And we all respect your sense of duty under pressure. But it just seems a bit odd that any of your scalding comments should be used to exert undue pressure for anyone to see when all is said and done. There's a small heart waiting for anyone who allows this to be completed. They'll book him for surgery at the earliest. I'm just afraid it'll be too late by half.





It seems that more than a few have noticed the emergence of a cluster of eyesores that present a bewildering vista to the untrained eye. The wiseguys in the know, however, are fully capable of recounting an equally disgraceful set of circumstances in the years just after the War. Those were the days when hardly anyone knew how to count beyond the fourteenth letter; and for all that you'd think  they had something to hide. You'd be wrong of course, but that never stopped anyone, is all I'm saying. If I can get this right in my eye before one of our harebrained billybodies takes it into their mind to grow one instead, then we'll have to mount a fourth quarter offense when what we'd rather do is skip town with all the rest. I'll leave it to you to decide where you'd like to see your friends imprisoned. Each of them seems to favor embossed structures which glow where the sun don't shine, if you catch my drift. When you see them lying awake in the wee hours, you can tell them I sent you and they won't think twice if they know what's good for them. Pray!


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