Dissolved in the Morning Mist

Once upon a time there was a lamb. A sweet nice pretty black lil lamb---who had a friend called Mary, who took him to school and fed him carrots and green peas and sweet corns, and showed him off to all her friends. And then came the New Year's Day, and there was big celebrations, lights and music and Mary's papa invited all their relatives to a big big party and they were treated to ducks and turkey and nicely grilled diced lamb-chops seasoned with garlic and onion-----


I felt nausea in the morning as if I had blood in my mouth. Or the sticky tongue syndrome---what was it? Hey Gal wake up---u are in much better condition than those poor people in USA--- what with call centres coming to Third World (Cheap labour is the key I suppose) and Kerry out of the back door------. There, things are absolutely pathetic!!!!

My friend Pope who smokes and dopes says he is feeling pathetic too as he drove for 4 days in and out of Maine but couldn't get a single good picture of the fall colour---rains set in, it was all misty and foggy and leaves had already left for their last earthy bed. So---- how different are these two 'patheticness's?

I am but a shadow of my words, and have no voice at all-----