WARM UPS

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Uncanny Spaces Up There

You know what I’m talking about. 

(WordPress, if you don’t fix this problem soon, I’m going to have a tantrum on Twitter. I want SINGLE-LINED SPACES. WHY CAN’t YOU GIVE ME WHAT I AND OTHERS WANT, huh, more control over our formatting –


Oh wait. I think I get it. 

Do we have pay for single-lined spaces, to keep them in? The spaces, I mean. This is appalling. And don’t try to get into a spat with me on Twitter. We all know who will win that one. 


And, finally. 


I LOVE YOU!
(See BMW tweet.)

The Night Before The Primary 

Which one?

California, of course. When news organizations pronounced Hillary the winner, even though the election was still a day away. Really?  


And you wonder:  maybe all those Conspiracy people know something you don’t. 


Anyways. 

Please stop making stuff up.  

Who, What, When, Where, and Why.

First Rule of Journalism 101. 

You guys are all Yellow. 

Going Backwards

We were young spirits when we first met. Children in school. Young. This continued for a  couple of cycles. It had very strong roots, but its significance was unknown at the time. 

We only knew – the only constant – that once our paths crossed, despite great barriers – We. That was it. We were stuck with each other. We would travel together for however long it was written. 

The Road ahead?

Unknown. 


“BUT why must I be thought of a witch?  That’s not fair!”


PINNED AT THE CROSSROADS OF LIFE AND DEATH – 


AND WHERE ARE YOU?

Nowhere, around. 

As usual. 


FUCK THAT.