(no subject)
Karen slept with Hank.
The follows is an account of recent events of the Alex Show. But for a shocking twist, it will all be in horrifying metaphors. Ahem...
The old scary sheep has left the building. There are riots in foreign countries. Double bass is hard to manage. I could go swimming in the Red Sea, the Yellow Sea, or somebody's backyard, but the Yellow Sea looks nice this time of year. Eric Clapton plugged back in. James Dean's name is Jon, and my name is Frank. I sold my sunshine to Mr Stark. Judy's mom or Jim's granny. A little bird told me that an electric voice probably would. I was slain by the Belgians and the Greeks who moved to Ukraine, but I could probably save myself if I worked in the gallows and spent my summers with one of the Aristocats who is a good friend of Peter Sellers. Layla's stepdad's got me on my knees. During the Revolution, Poland disappeared entirely, and once again I was slain by the Belgians. They aren't autographed but they cost more than Axe's. Pressed Rat and Warthog have closed down their shop. My English is terrible, and I hate staying calm; my social skills are good and I don't have chemistry. If you sang a Broadway musical about racism and burned it onto a CD, you might win, but the Power Ranger who grins at the camera is tough competition; at any rate, I'm not coming down from the hill because I'll forever be stuck up here and I only learned that recently. I can't wait until my fingers are free and I can walk there my damn self. Everything left half an hour ago, but some of it is probably lurking about somewhere. Oh well.