brown potato, frozen potato, iced brown potato
2005-04-01 - 8:52 p.m.

Watch out, or we'll have to hop out of the boat and live our lives hunting vegetables in the fluttery realm of land. I'd rather live on the water, dear. Let us sail. Keep the stacks in order, my dear, flaunt your stingy peachiness at me. I can hardly remember having dirt under my feet. The water was so kind at first, and it's been so lazy and lovely. Perhaps too lazy. Perhaps too lovely. My jowls are numb, but let's forget that and shoo ourselves farther from land. Trust me, I'll do whatever I can to keep your socks dry.

And, more importantly, may the confused impatience of the salty remarks that feasted on the disturbed trust of a loaf of bizarre plaster find the result of a knotted desire.

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