MH Blaster,
The story is on, and you are bringing.
Bring it.
Gobble up a big batch of "want more."
Feel up that Muse and jam the blasting narrative -- Orgelf has got your number a big plenty -- check out the Five of Cups, my Brother.
Between two world...
Between is always better.
Durant "figs are blooming" Hapke
PS -- Nice take on the DH Nail.
Team blasting,
Jack bird action here, much to ponder.
I've got a fresh pack and an ice box full...
What to do.
Getting set to swing and bring...
Durant "strip it" Hapke
Grand MH,
Great spin on all that.
Bring it indeed.
The muse is worth endless study, endless attention, and tireless chase.
Chasing is the game, the life, and the reward.
Have you looked into your connection with "The Mirror?"
The "pathless path?"
The 78?
You should take a orbit my, Jack bird glass shingler...
You of all should kick that printed card action.
Bring a cold one, and go with the RW for starts... Avoid the Thoth for the moment.
Start with a single a day, meditate at your notebook, and google.
Google deep and long.
Google images, but be well aware of random Jack bird notions, and check out the quality 3x.
Orbit.
Durant "right that there" Hapke
Octo-Blast-Baz,
Your action is on -- I'm wondering about rendering, but also expanding my sadly pathetic .com action.
What a blistering bunch of endless toil...
I do not much care for the Lord of the Rings films... The first was quite Jack bird on, but the second two are a bit... I don't know, what...
Odd, or over much for me...
To over much... That's some Jack bird bad type of statement -- "over much for me..."
Well, I'm about putting up some files on my deal, but can't say when such will happen.
What about, "bring it?"
Oh, TaffGoch a big,
Your round ball graphic excites me, I go weak, it's complexities reminds me of the "Hermetic C..."
Your all about that action?
Yeah, Duchamp is the man, and the yeah, DADA... bring that, and Fauvism... DJ Mind Jack Moreau.
Matisse said of Gustave Moreau, "He did not set us on the right roads, but off the roads. He disturbed our complacency."
Jack bird Motherwell is the man.
What makes the man?
Yeah, it's a Jack bird new hot seven, and all my plans are spooling.
"What plans," you say?
So about pushing a robot.
A fire ball of action, D the F H, style...
On that I say, go do it.
Do it for me.
Do it for all.
0=00
Find your way to the edge, and kick.
Kick that action and fly.
Fly a Jack bird deep, deep, pornographic inner mile.
Durant "paste tabs here" Hapke
Brother Model Noggin,
BMN...
... nice...
Bring the ice roof -- bring a big glass, and pour one...
So digging that cold action, it makes me think of glass bells.
Chilly bells that are invisible, or are there inside the roofing material... Like a prism, I guess...
It's very occult... Whimsical...
Yeah I want a few of those "invisible bells" -- perhaps put one around Sam's swan like neck.
I have a lot of wants when I look at this...
I want a night of debauchery, when the Q of Cups is all slick and open -- I want a trippy party vibe.
Yeah baby, the whispers of transmogrification.
"You can change course Mr. Model "skull," open your self to the larger universe, and get set to drink up."
Drink in the powers of your muse.
I see the five of cups here...
I feel the five is asking us to get ready, baby, open your eyes and look in and out. Look past present and future.
You can see the messes and do nothing, or ride!
"Ride it! Your brother ghost! I'm going to help you, but first here's a big sock in the jaw!"
Durant "pour out a little bell for me" Hapke
Tripping all Thoth, have you stumbled across this jem?
Portable Darkness:
Durant "pour out a little bell for me" Hapke
Bird flier Dale,
Blender render...
I'm all about it soon...
So the cards suggest... Bang that... Tarot tangle my mind weeds. I'm half in, and half out about it all.
About yeah, bring me a high ball of Kerosene and CLO, nice.
Wash that down with some Camel Stale, and bring it.
Might like to eat a bowl of Jack bird ... foil?
Watch the cavities...
And back to rendering...
Pop up head is a rocking masterpiece.
But then again -- I've got this whole deal going with the meat puppets at the moment (the grays), and they are so stupid, and time consuming, and of course powerful, but what the Jack bird is new about that?
You ever hear that song "Jesus built my hot rod" by Ministry?
It rules, and I trust that would make a grand soundtrack for the pending render "battle field."
I'm going to have to dig out that classic, crank the stereo to pain, pour a cold one, light a camel, and have my way with all manner of digits...
Take it rough, and feel the art.
I'm feeling mad cap power action on the horizon.
What scares me is attached...
Rip that.
Durant "Word to all Grays" Hapke
Right on the edge Remus,
Ouch, my head is a prison this AM, not much good I'm all afraid about.
Tried to push the webs back with a all you can eat breakfast over at the Kip's big Jack down the hill -- road tripping again, looking for "what" again.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, on this... Cell.
It looks a lot like a school I attended -- back in the way back -- I had this teacher there, who was on his last year I'm trusting, he was a Jack bird right on mentor, Lee H something was his handle -- he had some kind of aqua-safalic kind of deal disorder all working dribble gland in his noggin, so he called himself a cyborg... Doctor dudes put this little plastic hose in his head that ran from the inner brain pan down into his bladder -- draining the excess water, and then he was more normal -- or didn't fall down so much.
Anyway that dude set me up with "Zen And The Art Of Motorcycle Maintenance" and that Jack really got my gray brain mud berries in a twitch.
I highly recommend that action -- perhaps render an old copy of that killer tome in that dank shadow land you've created.
Or, there is "Be Easy" and Sam Atomic... I might be able to get her to take a few photos -- but in the mean time here's a sketch I did of her about what? Four years ago.
Perhaps just write Be Easy + Sam on the wall.
Durant "bring a cake" Hapke
Brothers, and Sidterss,
Blm..
F
I had a lot on my minde tonicht, but now that "m home, I can't get my pockets open, and all my notes are in there. So will have to study...
Study what I've writen, Ā only.
Not next weekend.
I've been al Jack bird about he the rfuture, the future of not just what's in our minds as individuals, but rather as a conllective.
I've been all jack bird thinking that a shrine is a regestrateion point for thoughts.
You see thouse little crosses people place in the ditch next to where I think some othre\ person gets carshed buy a car, and you know this is what' went down, and so does everyone who sees it.
It's just a small deal, but then it gives you a lot of actoin with just a faom cross and some plastic lflowers, and i guess stink ghosts would just stand around there and get some passer bys all lookin g in there pockets for what they ahd written down about "icons", or that Icon of there lust.
YOu see it all the time, some dude at a corner and his Jack bird cup is empty, and he's looking for notthing anyway, so what? He needs a personal icon to get off that curb and into the next shrine.
If he was n't such a Jack bird "I can;t think for my self because I've seen to many diches," or whatever the donkey is going on and on about, so I say, "hey, Jack brother of empty cup ness... go build your shrine? go bild a palstic cross and lay down there , and take a look at the symbol of what your doing, alright?"
Your orbit is all out of wack.
Then the ghosts can help get you Ā some insight and you will regester and connect with the 0.
Then you can work the next action and stop being.
Ha... Friends of mine .
Durant "wait" Hapke
Stinkie Stack of thoughts...
Nice push, nice lead over to google and onto Mark Manders.
Rocking pour a tall one.
2my Cha Grin ming man date,
On yeah, I'm feeling you.
Bring that and Watch not to get burned....
Baz, much thought... Jack bird your on it -- will ponder.
Lewiswadsworth,
Fill a bucket with my processing of all your action.
I will soap my gray matter and rinse.
You are a very "give glad" grinder. Jack bird light up and pure.
Much to consider....
This all has me thinking about the 78, and way that action works...
Check it out.
22 - 56.
Here's a bit about trying and trying and looking.
I've fallen down a time or two... "Wow, DH, no?"
Once I took a tumble by a dumpster near a place I was working called "The Old JS Cantina" (as a young Jack, I did a stint as a fry baby, fry cook -- which wasn't a bad gig as you could drink for free, and eat french fries -- nothing like a good hot basket of fries), and found a wet envelope with three tickets to a Cheap Trick concert over at the University (it was a Jack bird killer cool show -- first time I "dated" two girls in the same night -- "I want you to want me" -- what a gas), and another time, I found a ten spot (which was great as I was on my last smoke, and could now buy a fresh pack of Desert Beasts -- light it up).
Will any of this realte to building models, or perhaps my sudden interest in modeling?
Not so much, but it will inspire thought about the pathless path.
A few years later, I was visiting a friend we called "The Sis'n S," over at a new apartment building, he was one of the first tenants, so most all the other units were empty.
This provided maximum freedom for our 12-oz meditations (we use to pile up beer bottles in the corner of a room, and on time a bunch of flies got in there -- or grew there -- and I was a batch of them sitting in a small circle like they were playing card or some Jack bird thing... It was cool... I called it the fly bar from then on).
We brought in a charcoal grill and cooked bratwurst near an open window, it was the middle of winter and cold -- I mean bone cold, and we lit off fireworks in the hallways.
It was massively great.
Anyway, I was finding my way out of said apartments, the sun was coming up, and I looked down on the frozen sidewalk and saw a single key.
As best I could I looked around for anyone who might have dropped it, and shouted, "Hey, who dropped the Jack Bird key?"
It looked like a car key, but it was old, and it had one of those organizer deals on it, the soft plastic ring things you get at the hardware store -- apple red -- so I stashed it in my pocket.
Now, about two months later, I was doing some laundry at this coin machine establishment (that was actually across the street from Old JSC), and playing a pinball machine that sat by the back door (I think it might have been that Playboy one, but perhaps it just featured a group of curves... Come to think of it, the graphic was not to dissimilar to the RW tarot style...), and this really beautiful girl comes in with a basket, and sets to putting things into a machine.
Without looking to obvious, I glance over from time to time. All most all her clothes were green, a nice deep green, like pine trees, or that felt you buy to make Christmas decorations out of -- gluing little gold stars to it to make a table runner or what not.
I'm all, playing it cool, and just watching the balls bounce around under the glass.
"I'm not checking you out, soon to be all clean hot sandwich girl, I'm just fixated with pinball..."
Then my last ball drains, and I decide it's time to say "Hey, can I buy you some soap, or perhaps a beer?"
I turn around, and said girl is gone. Her laundry is spinning, but she is nowhere to be found.
So, about a week goes by, and I'm at a bar down town called "The Press Top Bar," fine tuning my gut tanks before nightfall.
It's late afternoon, and I have to get over to my fry cook job, so I head out the back stairs, and cut through the parking lot of the clothing store on the same block.
The sky was clear, but it was so cold your eyes went crispy.
I'm just thinking about getting warm by the big bubbling fat of the frier, when I hook a turn around a van and practically trip over a girl down on her hands and knees looking under a big old car -- a Chevrolet Bel Air.
I bend down next to her, "Hey, how's it going?"
"I've lost my keys." Wow, it's the girl with all the dirty green duds! She's plenty upset, and in deed sporting a big green coat.
I helped her look for a good while, but it was just a big egg -- no luck. What a drag.
Five o'clock was fast approaching, so I said "Sorry, I've got to hit it, you going to be all cool here?"
"Yeah, I can call someone," she was truly stunning -- angelic -- "thanks for the help, I'm Kit." She put out her hand, and I grasped hold (it was icy cold) and noticed her nail polish was bright red, like an apple.
Red? Not green? Red, red, red, what about red?
Then it struck me...
I dug out the old key from my pocket, slipped it into the door, and -- CLICK! It opened right the Jack bird up.
Kit's eyes where like super potato big, like planet size. Wow, it was a Jacking Jack bird weird.
I handed her the key -- she swore it wasn't hers. The moment turned super uncomfortable, like I might have been planning this entire situation.
I was now late, so had to move it. She was all "Wait!"
"Catch me at the JSC, I flip Jack burger action until eleven," and I blazed.
Kit the killer cool cat never came to see me, but I started liking green more, I bought a forest green scarf that I still ware, and set to drinking peppermint schnapps.
What's the point you ask? If all that action can come from me falling down, perhaps it's time for a few new crayons in the box...
Rendering very badly might be good.
That was a very unexpected trip down memory lane... see what I mean -- that's how the 78 kicks.
Durant "spin bucket" Hapke
Smooth Nomeradona,
Work the door action, and bring it.
It's this process that matters, the slam dance of creation, rather then the results -- however here... pure a cold one as it's a magic lamp of "it."
I'm wondering about 09041025?
You might be interesting in looking into the 78 -- a muse from another place, that "kicks it fine with the here and now."
Bring that action home and sweep the mind for freedom.
Durant "orbit of rendering..." Hapke
Russellbeta Beta blaster,
I've been getting downloads from the grays for a good while now -- more to the point, I've been tapping their transmissions and I've seen this robot head before.
Clearly you have been doing the same, though I see you have cleverly tried to cover this point of fact by using the standard english alphabet.
I'm not Jack bird buying this.
Are you and agent for the meat puppets?
Look here at the name ROGER:
R -- Remote
O -- Operations
G -- Global
E -- Estrogen
R -- Retarder
Yeah:
Retarder (reĀ·tardĀ·er [ri-tahr-der]
ānoun
Clever perhaps, but not quite so much so.
Your machine is a smart bomb designed to damp down the production of estrogen here on earth, and there for stop our species from procreating.
This of curse is another Jack bird attempt by the grays to take on the creative earth mind -- the "Amagnum brain."
I suggest you turn this around on the meat puppets.
Turn this devise into a dispenser of adult themed transmissions (aka: pornography).
As your receiving their feeds, you can simply reverse the frequencies of the standard transmission and -- BANG!! -- group think disrupted, and grays come tumbling down.
Durant "flue on a skate" Hapke
Brothers, and Sisters,
I'm bringing the confusion.
I'm about looking at all the rendering options, but feel Maya is to magical a word to ignore...
I wonder about this... A bit like a Hex perhaps...
Maya madness...
Madness about rendering a photo real "mud doll" and scribbling all over it's slippery mouth grimy.
What about...
Rendering....
Rendering is a dream now...
Magick numbers and lust.
You heard of "Orgone?"
That's a crazy machine kind of magick.
Durant "Gigantic step into the future" Hapke
Brother Dale, and Pmiller,
Ever drink Cod Liver Oil?
I've seen that stuff in old movies, and shows from the past -- TV action like Leave It To The Beaver, but have never tasted the elixir -- apparently quite awful.
Wonder if I could get my hands on some... Perhaps mix it with a bit of Peppermint Schnapps...
Either way, Jack bird "Rock Star" for the info -- helpful, will continue to learn...
Why render my action?
It's a big donkey Jack idea...
I say I feel pulled, and pulled is what I like to penetrate -- and that means putting the ghosts of self doubt into their jars, and "working it."
Work at making some fire gland renders.
And as I did with the Tarot -- the hot rock 78 -- the Mirror -- the pathless path -- I say "bring it."
So bring it, and work it.
Oh, work it.
Work it with a Render...
I have to push a Jack bird question.
What about Maya?
I like the name Maya, as it sounds like a spell.
A Jack bird Supernatural Spell... I rocking want to get down on that.
Digital Magick (oh, check out AC, and bring that... Bring the Crowley action).
If I render some machines like kind of photos, I can mess with them all a plenty, I feel.
That's what I feel today.
So what about Maya, you model in that, but it can create magic renders, this is big "oh Yeah," correct?
Not sure about such, but that's my notion.
And you can rocking bring all the sketch up sex into that universe, right on?
A Maya bird is friend or enemy?
I go for more.
Durant "I see a pie crust in need" Hapke
Brothers, and Sisters,
So, yeah, while tipping friendly over at the Cat and the Fiddle, I happened to bump into S's friend from the slammer, "Be Open."
We exchanged a very few Jack bird words, and in a half a glass, she made like a tree, and blew away.
Nice, but still very frantic.
This got me thinking about the night of "Pole dancing" over at my crash box, and how I managed no never get round to the Jack bird swinging use of the Nintendo controller...
Here's where it sputtered to a "look out, red light..."
@durant hapke said:
So I hop into the front room, and yeah, the pair are working the dance floor without a pole -- clearly that's what they are wishing they had, but no dice in my dive, and no square footage (a term I've picked up using SU), but whatever the action, they are trying to do a real bump and grind bit of a show.
I dial back the I-pod, receive the expected drunken "boo's," but quickly take a seat, and shout out a, "bring it, girls, plow me a tractor show."
So the music and the curves grind on and on for a bit when -- THWAP!! -- Tiger power booze Robin Samantha lets fly with a cracker Jack smack to "Be Easy'" wild shaking Ponderosa, "light it on fire, Little Joe."
It was all the foam churning in Sam's gut pocket that made her swing so hard, I'm thinking, or aim so poorly, but either way, I was donkey shock by the impact -- it was percussive -- a cannon blast of full on five fingers.
Sip beer and wait for the fireworks...
I'm thinking "Be Easy" might swing round with a real monkey punch, put a bit of that Alien Chest Buster into Sam's guts from the out side in -- "Squeak, an dribble blood, and run, little Phallic Giger goblin, run screaming cross the table, and disappear into the night (or in space "no time" as night and day are the same."
That's the action I'm looking at seeing, but no...
No...
No...
Like a crazy Goose Jack guzzling Electric blue 80's Dark Brothers super star, she just sticks that rump back, pushing it back and around, and coos, "Mmmm, Damn, yeah, serve it up like that, serve it like that!"
I've known Sam a very good long time, and the women girl thing does have issues, but needing to be coxed into "doing" things ain't one of them... Doing or trying, or doing agin, or trying twice, she's all about that -- I was hoping "Be Easy" had already figured that much out.
Do you remember that super old cartoon George of the Jungle? Yeah, well, in the opening of that show there is this theme song with a big batch of bongos and drums going on, and the bongos and the beat can really get you excited -- I flipped for that action back in the day -- but anyway it has this really crazy beat, and that's what Sam the Man started slapping out all a mad crazy about town.
"Be Easy," eyes clamped shut -- her mouth kind of gaped into a "O" shape, and that crazy twitching body turned stone like and still.
And Sam "Wham a Bam," she just kept at it...
I mean she was like on the Jack bird front lines of Spank Down the Enemy -- she was switching hands every few whacks -- and they where turning fire engine red -- like her fingers where glowing little red popsicles.
Then the music ended -- and the room was nothing but a echo box of clatter, and...
"Ba, bee, yeah, do, it, do, bee, yeah, stove shoot, don't, hot, harder, cream," things like that trickled out of that round "O" from time to time -- and, graphic action as it is, a long pipet of silver droll .
For a Jack bird moment I thought I should tell Sam to "just stop, stop the tom tom club," but then again, getting a whack or two in myself crossed my mine...
Perhaps the best idea was to recommend that skirt make like a banana and peel, but Samantha doesn't go in for that kind of "boring male fantasy" action, she might just stop everything -- so I lit a fresh Camel and just went for the ride.
So now, "Be Easy" starts getting big alligator tears a moving. Her face is a beat red kind of affair now -- sweating a good bit -- and her eye are letting go an building flood.
And then she starts to sobbing.
Sobbing and shaking, sobbing and tearing.
Finally Sam pipes in with, "That all you want?"
And this girl, "Be Easy," ain't taking it all that easy. She sobs, "Kaak, kak, a Whimmmmp?"
Sam is all, "A what?" (you could tell she was asking for something).
"Kak, Gak, Gat a a whip?"
I have a lot of odd junk hanging around that dive, but no, I have no whip, and if I did have a whip, I would have to believe that Sam would have seen it, or I would have shown it to her -- but all red handed and panting, Sam turns to me, and goes, "D, you have a whip?"
Perhaps my eyes told her before my smoky mouth opened, but before I could get out, "Of course I do, Sam, I have an entire closet filled with said equestrian accouterment..." she reached over atop the television stand and grabbed hold of one of my Nintendo controllers -- not one off the cube, rather the old school 64 variety.
Holding onto the Jack handle, she wound that action cord around her hand and set to going Indiana Jones with said cord on, known behind.
Crack.
Crack.
Crack.
"Give me the idol, I'll give you the Nintendo Cord..."
Everything kind of "unwound" from there, no pun intended, or needed at this juncture.
I thought it might bring the entire event to a head, but it seemed to be the wrong implement for maximum pleasure, and Sam was loosing her steam...
But just then, with out any warning, "Be Easy" spun round grabbed the controller and sent it sailing across the room.
What? Yeah, it hit the wall just by this old scribble I did of the cup with the fish poking out of it, the one featured in the hand of the page of cups, and though it didn't appear to break, it hit hell a hard and bounced all damaged looking across the floor. Ouch!
"That's not my feeling, that's not going to work," "Be easy" screamed at the top of her Jack bird lung bags, "Get a belt! and take your clothes off!"
Well, this might all sound quite entertaining, and it was for a time, but now it had car wreck written all over it -- it had all gone the way of the pizza left out on the counter, it might look tasty, but it's lost it's first bake heat, and will never be like that again.
I stood up and flipped the light on and off, "you can stay up all night, but you can't stay here."
The pair plopped down on the couch, and Sam said, "we'll sleep then..."
And they did.
I went out on the pack porch for one more, and by the time I stumbled on into my room, they where sawing.
Durant "Zela rules" Hapke
Brothers, and Sisters,
Bring the action.
Word to your muse.
Have a Jack bird actual Swiffer of a question...
... Yeah?...
Yes? Go on...
If you want to de-select everything -- all your geometry, and dashed lines, and such, is there a command that is all about that? Like Apple "D" in funky Photoshop?
I don't know... I Jacking just click off to the side, but now and again, it's hard -- hard to do.
And what about life on Mars? Feeling it's a done deal...
Rock that and get your grips on a hot sandwich.
Check the attached to aim at the sparkle lizard.
Durant "fire water" Hapke
Brothers, and Sisters,
Wow, got all Jacked up on goose junk last night, so have been having a bit of a slow day.
Well, that's not entirely true as I had to tinker a bit with the mouse, and pull a log of grease out from under the kitchen counter.
Not lubricating grease -- which would be alright -- but just stubborn cow grease -- post fish fry, if you know what I mean, fish and ever loving hush puppies.
Ouch, bring me a cold one.
What about salt and oil?
So good, so rocking "give me some."
Oh, and then there was this nasty shanker burn I got on the back of my neck -- Ouch again.
... Awful.
I've been thinking about getting into messing around with a Jack bird rendering Jack...
Yeah, I'm scared -- scared of the earth swallowing me up, but rendering some Jack action in a rendering program kind of way has been floating around in my noggin.
Oh, like a noggin of beer, and Tarot, and porn, and camels, and oink, and beer has room for learning all that techno-fullbe action...
"Oh, I need to adjust the specular on this, and perhaps review my sample rate..."
I don't know if that fits my world view or not..
"Yeeehh! Oh, bring that hot fish over here and burn my neck with it, I have a model I want to go render..."
"Alright, let me get a big fresh filet from the plastic container, and really pile the batter on... yeah!"
"Should I sit at my computer?"
"No, no, here, lay on the floor, let me move the table a bit!" (This is the Jacking Jack crack hot voice of Samantha by the by)
"On the dirty floor?"
"Yeah, right at my feet, it's hard and dirty."
"And dirty, and greasy -"
"JUST DO IT! I'm dropping the fish in... Now... now turn over on your stomach, and tell me about how you render... How you render your models... The fish is begining to float!"
"I don't know how yet, the Jack bird programs... There are to many choices, to many sliders, to many adjustments... I'm needing a beer..."
"Stay put! Stay, I'm going to eat this cod off the back of your hot neck... All that talk of digits, and models, and 'push-pull'"
Samantha kicks off her shoes, and mans a tongs.
"Is that fish done yet? Bring it to me, baby."
She scoops the golden brow goodness out of the pan, and sits her bottom down hard on mine.
"Burn fish, burn, baby!"
Right on the back of my neck!
"Indigo?!"
Ouch! Ahaaaaaaa!
"God, I don't know!"
Not sure if I want to learn to render...
Where to start?
Durant "tarter sauce" Hapke
Brotthers, and Sisters,
Tos tired to do mushc hunting and or plucking of the letternd teeth.
Durant "well of soulds" Hapke
Big Bubba, Big Bopping, Ba of Love dude Jack,
Right...
The story has page two...
That electrician came back with a friend, some big dude that seemed all agitated about the coffee splash deal.
Jack bird "easy..."
I just happened to be out in the garage getting some apple Jack hard action, so grabbed that Swiffer Mop that was leaning there by the ladder, and charged down the drive at them before they could even get up onto the walk.
I said "Jump the Jack bird back you dangly earth sacks, you so deserved the coffee wash, take it like an stud, man!"
I was quite loud, I'm sure the neighbors heard -- sorry about that, but what does it really matter?
Anyway, I must have looked like I was really going to kick some Swiffer ding-dangle-dong-ding -- go all man-job up on them -- as they stood there for a moment, until the new dude said, "your not a like here..."
"Not a like here"?
What the Jack bird does that mean?
Is that some kind of "alien planet" deal? (like that television show I was on Discovery -- weird alien huge life).
You not a like here...
I said, "Wow, is that like a question, or a statement?"
They just blinked a time or two, got back in their truck and headed out.
I wish I had been drinking a fresh cup, I would have shot mister friend man a glob of "down your leg brew" as well.
Durant "feeling tough a plenty today" Hapke