November 18, 2005

  • A moment ago I was keenly inspired to wield my guitar and sing a soliloquy to this illustrious evening. But then the death bell tolled, as I remembered that my guitar is minus a very necessary appendage-- a bass string, cruelly rent in twain by the vicious, altho inspired, strokes of another's hand. So, what is there left for my deprived soul to do, but to sorrowfully fall upon my knees, a heart too full for utterance...and weed the flower-bed!

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