My Summer Vacation
Day One:
You can't get good grits around here. The Snake Skin God took me to the Denny's.
Day Two:
I rock. Two metric ton in three load. Pickup a large Italian sausage, pineapple, onion.
Day Three:
Sign a whack of mortage renew papers. Steak this thick.
Day Four:
Billy the Goat is really Billy Jean Goat. New cat. No tail. Tatoo. Thirty seven smokes.
Day Five:
Street fair. Street fare. Three shrimp. Three pork. Three beef. Satay. Satisfy.
Day Six:
Porch. Peace. Pet the old cat until my hand turned black. Three pear cider.
Day Seven:
House paint. Joseph added colour to the story. Steamed vegetarian BBQ pork buns.
Day Eight:
New cat. Now Miss Kitty Kitty Kitty, three bounds out the door. Gone. Two raisin toast.
Day Nine:
Kitty came back. Pepper salami, onion, tomato at Benny's.
Day Ten:
A guy on a bike, top hat, on the top a flashing light. On the light the number seven.
In his trailer, onto the bike, a golden lawn chair.
Day Eleven:
Stripper with Cindy Lou. Paint silly. Egg salad on egg bun at Union.
Day Twelve:
Subtle. Sweet. Strong. Erect scaffolding. Right to the top. King. Castle. Stoli Razberi.
Day Thirteen:
Steel rail. Pipe sunk. One man junk. One man treasure. And how blue is black?
Day Fourteen:
Rain. Sleep all day. Snake Skin God, pleasant surprize, took me for Pot Stickers.
Day Fifteen:
Rain. Rust. Hauled home a 1/2 " 13F sheet of Diamond Grid. Real cheese grater.
Day Sixteen:
The Unicorn has landed. Long story. Wind on string, on my porch. Eat your greens.
Day Seventeen:
Complements on new colour. It's dangerous chatting on a 21 foot extension ladder.
Day Eighteen:
New band Essential Fungicide. Roof top bar. Last moment Low Tack Tape. Flop.
Day Nineteen:
Snake Skin God smokes last three smokes. Wonders if overstayed welcome. Crackers.
Day Twenty:
Snake Skin God's guilt got the best. Solar panel. Future research. A vegetable dip.
Day Twenty-one:
Pea Gravel. Yes. It hurt. Like a hard whack in the sack. Back crack. No beer. Thanks.
Day Twenty-two:
Labour Day. Recline. Repose. Resplendent. Eat light. All think me the bitch.
Day Twenty-three:
Snake Skin God sold his place. Plans change. Left. Joe and all you can eat ribs.
Day Twenty-four:
The psychic journal. Real spread. All day. It's time to break out the secret cheese.
Day Twenty-five:
Complete painting. Amazing. Prettiest girl down the street, left the nicest complement.
Day Twenty-six:
Woke up next to Miss Kitty Kitty Kitty. Touch ups. Tomato. Salt. Pepper. Miracle Whip.
Day Twenty-seven:
Quiet street. Sunny day. Baby carriage. Ice cream cone. So right. So square.
Day Twenty-eight:
Kitty Kitty Kitty left a bird on the top step. Breast torn open.
Day Twenty-nine:
You might own the world, you can't own a cat.
Day One:
You can't get good grits around here. The Snake Skin God took me to the Denny's.
Day Two:
I rock. Two metric ton in three load. Pickup a large Italian sausage, pineapple, onion.
Day Three:
Sign a whack of mortage renew papers. Steak this thick.
Day Four:
Billy the Goat is really Billy Jean Goat. New cat. No tail. Tatoo. Thirty seven smokes.
Day Five:
Street fair. Street fare. Three shrimp. Three pork. Three beef. Satay. Satisfy.
Day Six:
Porch. Peace. Pet the old cat until my hand turned black. Three pear cider.
Day Seven:
House paint. Joseph added colour to the story. Steamed vegetarian BBQ pork buns.
Day Eight:
New cat. Now Miss Kitty Kitty Kitty, three bounds out the door. Gone. Two raisin toast.
Day Nine:
Kitty came back. Pepper salami, onion, tomato at Benny's.
Day Ten:
A guy on a bike, top hat, on the top a flashing light. On the light the number seven.
In his trailer, onto the bike, a golden lawn chair.
Day Eleven:
Stripper with Cindy Lou. Paint silly. Egg salad on egg bun at Union.
Day Twelve:
Subtle. Sweet. Strong. Erect scaffolding. Right to the top. King. Castle. Stoli Razberi.
Day Thirteen:
Steel rail. Pipe sunk. One man junk. One man treasure. And how blue is black?
Day Fourteen:
Rain. Sleep all day. Snake Skin God, pleasant surprize, took me for Pot Stickers.
Day Fifteen:
Rain. Rust. Hauled home a 1/2 " 13F sheet of Diamond Grid. Real cheese grater.
Day Sixteen:
The Unicorn has landed. Long story. Wind on string, on my porch. Eat your greens.
Day Seventeen:
Complements on new colour. It's dangerous chatting on a 21 foot extension ladder.
Day Eighteen:
New band Essential Fungicide. Roof top bar. Last moment Low Tack Tape. Flop.
Day Nineteen:
Snake Skin God smokes last three smokes. Wonders if overstayed welcome. Crackers.
Day Twenty:
Snake Skin God's guilt got the best. Solar panel. Future research. A vegetable dip.
Day Twenty-one:
Pea Gravel. Yes. It hurt. Like a hard whack in the sack. Back crack. No beer. Thanks.
Day Twenty-two:
Labour Day. Recline. Repose. Resplendent. Eat light. All think me the bitch.
Day Twenty-three:
Snake Skin God sold his place. Plans change. Left. Joe and all you can eat ribs.
Day Twenty-four:
The psychic journal. Real spread. All day. It's time to break out the secret cheese.
Day Twenty-five:
Complete painting. Amazing. Prettiest girl down the street, left the nicest complement.
Day Twenty-six:
Woke up next to Miss Kitty Kitty Kitty. Touch ups. Tomato. Salt. Pepper. Miracle Whip.
Day Twenty-seven:
Quiet street. Sunny day. Baby carriage. Ice cream cone. So right. So square.
Day Twenty-eight:
Kitty Kitty Kitty left a bird on the top step. Breast torn open.
Day Twenty-nine:
You might own the world, you can't own a cat.
stickyrice:
Ima like the grits with yellow bits in. No butter. You?