I was in the visiting area at a jail, but I'm not sure if I was a prisoner or a visitor because I was alone. In another part of the room sat Diana Ross, and she wasn't looking very good nor did she look at all like Diana Ross. But she could still sing, and she did when the guard told her to "turn on the radio." Which I guess meant "sing."
Later I was the only one in the room, which had lots of crazy diagonal walls and frosted glass windows. I thought about trying to escape but instead I just posed as a janitor in the kitchen.
Then I was playing golf with my family in this snowy mountian landscape. I was trying to put vertically into this weird-shaped "cup" that was basically a gouge out of a cliff-face.
Then my parents flung my brother Dave with this biblical-style slingshot into an algae-covered creek. They did something to Mark, too, but not to me.
Maybe they felt bad because I was so horrible at mountain golf.
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1 comment:
I too am horrible a mountain golf. My parents haven't thrown me in a sling yet either. Maybe it's a first-born thing. Either way, we need some direct mail hudson valley, man. This could be our big break. Glad you found out how to do this.
Pollyanna.
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