thelastasthmatic

pondering the evils of the lust for lemonade.

what good has the cursed drink brought me? my quest has lead me to many a gas station just beyond the bounds of civilization-where grease monkeys and debutaunts rule sweaty mosquitoinfested nights. i find myself risking the convienience store underworld for want of that golden liquid sugar, no thought given to my safe return to suburbia.

and the time lost on these excursions! minutes stretch to half-hours! how many times have i flung open the door to hear the dying rings of the phone, or homer simpson anouncing the last emails of the day?? how many times did my feline herd give in to their overstressed bowels??

but the lemmons call to me. sweetly they call, and i feel my lips pucker in anticipation...