I dance for warmth not art.

Some may wait for a snowflake to fall onto their tongue, I say let’s grow a giant tongue maybe in space…yes a giant space tongue and let’s try and land a comet on it.  If I had a space ship it would be a giant space tongue, boldly licking the universe one unsuspecting alien race at a time.  I would call my ship: Puppy Love.  And in true canine fashion I would be on a mission to sniff out the true annals of the universe as an explorer of galactic history.  Maybe marking a parsec or two with a yellow beacon of hope for humanity and chasing giant space rabbits in and out of worm holes…worm holes…worm holes.  Do you ever think about the different orifices on a worm?  Next time I’m annoyed at a co-worker I’m going to call him a worm hole.

 

Happy Friday the 13th may your luck run red like lucky red markers and cherry slushys…nothing says thank you like 32 ounce cherry slushy…except maybe a 32 ounce cherry slushy with everclear…maybe a flaming cherry slushy named Chumberjack Mc Thooslehoffenmacher.  I’ll take two of those and put them in my face.

 

I make the best crappy cup of coffee. Directions:

 

Peace Out!