and it's not a magritte painting either. deal with it.
one glass of wine and two hours of television, and i am the mental equivalent of a fifth-grader. i could not put together a coherent, interesting paragraph right now if i tried.
no, really, i can't. i blame encroaching old age, my contact lenses, and tuesdays in general.
good night.
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2 comments:
my my, you're so self-reflexive and surrealist.
i liked that post anyway. even if fuzzy logic tells us it wasn't one.
Ceci n'est pas un comment.
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