I wish I had friends that stop by around 1 in the afternoon with greasy bags of lunch. "Hey Mikey, I thought you might like some gryos."
That's like a fantasy I've had.
He swims. He gnaws. He builds dams. He moves us with his intelligence and grace. He is the Wily Beaver. And he is here to INTUBATE us all.
Monday, May 05, 2003
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