October 22, 2013

Endless

I won't offer yet another wing shot now.  But that's where I've been, lost in the scramble.  The penetration piece has gone inscrutable again.  I hate the wedding gift.  I think I'll scrap it.  Back to spin, no end in sight.  It needs to be clean.  I might gamble on bronze, and I don't want those clay and wax folk to think I'm thick.