I just hopped out of the bath tub and now, honest, I'm turning the machine off to go into a field and get dirty, again.

Cheers. Yes.

People cannot truly love your 'fellows' by a mere act of the will. Love is only born of thoroughgoing understanding of our neighbor's motives and sentiments...I know we all are deficient, when it comes to defineing something as mysterious as love. Love is infectious, and when human has a devotion, it's a 'form' and is 'something' intelligent and wise ( I keep senseing it more and more here, and that increases one's capacity to experience more love). Thanks.

Love is more catching than hate. A genuine desire to taste 'it' is delicious is good. To love, even a tiny bit, and unselfishly wish to distribute love is truly contagious. It's simply a desire to do good to others. Serious.

Cheers.

After watering up the hill in the green house...I blame it on the green basil I nibbled.

O.M.G who knows what the girls were thinking. O.M.G. knows?

W.T., they may have been in a dark photo laboratory with you?

O.M.G., one prom night during a slow dance I started sweating and felt something begin to get hard. I feared I was gonna turn into a stone.

O.M.G., once in a awhile here if someone would slow dance with you, don't dare ask if the bra is hard because of you?

O.M.G., hip hip, don't label them "chicks" because they are soft when they 'ain't have stuffed 'um cups, no not one will tell.

G.M.O., O forgive and pardon us, if we can attend the prom one more time, pretty please, take some of us with a 'stitch' from a fist fight at this blog.

W.T. Remember prom night and those sweaty slow dances?

Chas ch El Cid too etc., 'um all woeful, but fun and adorable when they ain't acting mean or fierce. Hip hurray, a 'silly' fun day, hoopla loo with any partner who'd dance with the like of you?

Let's go out with a buttered blueberry biscuit, male or female, be kind to each other, and take a soar into a blue sky with all the buxom harmless bubblebees and pretty butterfly's.

W.T. You always get in trouble too? Cha cha, cha hula hoop with a thee? O, cut us off before the open hearted human, kind as can be, starts to dance with a carved shaped heart, in the bark of a tree.

A 'kid' of 'ole lying shady other's named Bill, just ain't a sweet timber tree. La la lulu. Thanks William for the memories.

O.M.G., don't get us east coast non surf boys going on about the Beach Boys. What happened 'under the board walk, under the boardwalk' stays under the boardwalk, right W.T. ? Fleas bit the hell out of you. No start rambling about singer Frankie Avalon and the Baltimore Orioles. No sing a love letter in the sand on a Salon or chew from a can of 'scroll' at the prom dance.

O.M.G., don't tell about the parking problem on a rainy night after a football game at Don Amiche's drive-in when a cop came from out of no where? Knock knock knock. Lock up you?

O.M.G., All turns to a quick mush {a} Cha chi a Gracia.

Cheers.

I am so far behind I believe I have missed that 'ole Casey Jones who drove his train via a 'hoe' house ditch?

The letters-comments remind me of a freight train boogie, always rolling along upon the straight 'right' freight line.

Casey Glenn (apologies) was a son of a bi**h. He'd buck and bite a loony red neck donut in the thigh, and the bucking mule-arse would, for it's own good, yelp! A Glenn mule-arse was always waking-up neocon politico's by bucking up and down, and seemingly, never taking a good 'ole lard day of rest. A politico may whine, whistle, screech, and scream, "Yow," but the screamer is a woe-woe wee, yucky neoconnie a'ie...Lie!

A good dear-da-dew, 'ole mule or donkey, has a flapping long ear's ability to see? Hear the 'ole box-car full of pocket-empty, good sense, People...and a bit better of good sense than Chef bore ah dew, resides in their sweet bumf-arse-- meme. What's this omen a' after shave cologne's stinkers?

O, why do not the likes of Chris Math-pews take a long sleep, and pray a good lard from hell, don't fry 'um-up? I do swear, It's concussing.

Box-car willie-Glenn (sorry Greenwald) ah-Dada-dew, do keep bellowing' the freight trains smoke-stack steam, up debra a bumf-arse. Keep a'a bucking like a'damn doer-mule-arse, as a 'ole liberal donkey.

I never get too disgusted when my pocket may get empty, O, Ha-Leia, because we on the same box-car train! You (sorry Glenn) are a rambling lawyer passing via many towns, with a rhythm's, and a O, man, a 'law-man' doing some good! Keep rail-a'roading 'um out of the public square, like a good loco-motive always should.

Sweet dreams, and don't eat too much asparagus? Or, sip on a home-brew punch, and then come read the news at the Salon.

But, Oh, ha, la-la lei, if a law man, or a outlaw gal/guy wants t just say, we on the same-same box car Glenn's bronco, a whistling, a Dickie? , and on a same-same peace train? Sweet dreams, and I'll regret coming here to the rambling gal/guy Salon, tomorrow. It's like rolling along on a freight train...Sweet train...boxcar's full of sweetie's. Get some rest, who can keep up with Glenn's box car willie bronc steam-bookie train? No me can-- me way behind... I know I will regret this manana...my computer is wacky.