An Off-Night Attempt to Write a Blog Post: Beans, Meatballs & Withered Flowers

Let’s try this out:  “The seasons have changed and the leaves are starting to fall.  The flowers have withered and their scents have faded.  The memories of a lingering sweetness in the air are still there, but whenever I stop to look, there is only the barren field.  A field littered with cow manure, ready for the next cycle…”

What the hell was that about?

How about this one? “The wind beneath your wings that you passionately refer to is actually the gas from last night’s dinner of beans.”


Let visions of spaghetti and meatballs drive your next trance.

Go to sleep…


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