your mom so unpatriotic/

these plants so strangling and exotic



In my naive fantasies, people often ask me, "Dale where do you get your ideas?"

And I tell them:

I see them in the subway.

I know it is her briefly sliding in to a taxi cab among the crowded city. Hailing a car I follow through similar unfamiliar streets. Inevitably, I am left with only her description which I post for you each week.

UGH! Why I can't stand your friends!

1) They don't seem to like me!

2) Why are they always acting like that?

3) What are they whispering among themselves?

4) The products and genres they endorse are too far removed from those I support.

5) I know I just know they are trying to tear us apart, my precious piglet!



And THAT, young lady, is why we have RULES in this house of terrible ghosts where our host bodies are left limp and disoriented until we inhabit them to remember the feel of what it is like to breathe and touch and other similar sensations forever stripped from us, the damned.



your pal,



Dale