another one of my woody allen-ish monologues: on the topic of flowers.

[green_primate]

flowers. the penultimate Valentine's present (i say "penultimate" since THE ultimate gift would be a pound of French black truffles rolled in Vorlhana cocoa powder... or no-frills, consensual sex; come to think of it, dinky flowers pale in comparison to truffles and/or sex; so it's up to yours truly to invent a suitable term to accommodate the

Comments

[green_primate]

just roll them in Vorlhana cocoa powder first.

p.s.
meeeooooooooowwwwwwrrrrreeeeoooooowwwwwwwr.

[faded_dorothy]

*raises hand* I hate receive flowers every Valentines.

[green_primate]

yes! high five! now down low!

[funfuneral]

Hm, I sense a story in this long entry of yours.

Like I can picture you going through the nine circles of hell and attained inspiration for this one.

*beatific smile*

[green_primate]

nope. stopped just at the fringes of the eighth circle. me and the other cool blasphemers threw spitballs at them uncultured usurers.