I think I have this strange affinity of looking up.
Ceilings, skies, skirt(ings of overhead windows)
Occasionally, I also tend to look inside me.
I guess that answers my enigmatic dreams of dissecting rodents to Overture.
Basically, there was this old Baroque joke that Mozart played so passionately because he wanted to express the lack of any hair product that that could tame his scalp-located beard.
There is talent in scruffiness, and the entertainment industry has proven that time and time again.
Clouds are scruffy, and they're wonderful aren't they?
Fluffy is the better word, I guess. But so is white.
Well to continue on my pursue of scientific conundrums, chemically speaking, solids are very appealing.
I mean doesn't it fascinate you that somethings just can't go through walls?
I know it makes the Southern people happy.
Speaking about getting through walls, I have come up with this ingenious plan of a store that sells walls.
It saves space, it destroys all barriers, and you don't need to waste money on racks.
I mean I came up with a name already.
Wall R Us
Hilman would be proud.
I think I'd like to end this post on a high note.
F#
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