Four out of five doctors feared she was a genius, and not for any particular reason, it was just a feeling, like spider-sense. Joan was fully aware of their findings. It was apparent in her pompous stride. If she had seen herself, her awkward and frequent steps, she may not have been so full of herself.
For hours, a tortoise looked up to admire the flight of the most beautiful eagle soaring through the skies with grace and ease. He had always been envious of flight, after all, he had been a low to the ground, crawling reptile for the last 79 years. As the eagle landed, the tortoise shouted, “Bravo, eagle, bravo.”
Casper the friendly ghost was not living up to his name. He was still Casper, still a ghost, but not so much with the friendly. He would better be described as despondent, introspective, gothic, but not in the fashionable sense, but in the emotional state, and blubbering like a roomful of mourners. Today, he fully realized the meaning of R.E.M.’s song, “Everybody Hurts”. This is the power of truth.
Rock and roll heaven must be a happier place now, while we, in this shitty Tom Petty-less world, muddle along without a guiding light. Meanwhile, we are left on this mortal plane with Jimmy Buffett, Dave Matthews, Eddie And The Cruisers, an irresponsible incompetent CBS, Ray Parker Jr., Jason Aldine, Jared Kushner, Spin Doctors, Taylor Swift, Barenaked Ladies, bigger and better record breaking mass shootings on American soil, Tears For Fear, Half of Milli Vanilli, The Village People, Coldplay, Demi Lovato, The current Rolling Stones, and Right Said Fred. Space prevents me from making this list longer, time too.
The sound of a switchblade and a motorbike.
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