Veni, Vidi, Ventus --
The randomly chaotic and crafty scribblings of a deranged, wannabe artist allowed too many colours in her Crayon box.

Surgeon General's Warning: Some content of "From Pooka's Crayon" may not be suitable for: work, blue-haired little old ladies, the politically-correct, rabid moonbats, uptight mothers, priests, chronic idiots, insurance claims agents, Democrats, children, small furry quadropeds from Alpha Centauri, or your sanity.

Monday, March 04, 2002

But this one goes to 11

Thing 2: (checks watch) "Wow. Two minutes. That's good."

Me: "What's two minutes?"

Thing 2: (shuffling) "Um. But it goes to eleven."

--

I *think* Thing 1 is trying to play air guitar to Metallica.

I'm not entirely sure. Maybe she's just having a seizure.
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