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The Biomythograpy, Misadventures and Other Sh*t of San Francisco’s Literary Outsider Eiríkur.
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Dr's office: "You'll need to be fleet clean." Guy: "What?" Dr's office: "Fleet enema clean." Guy: "So like 'fisting' clean?" Dr's office: "Well we don't need eat out of it."
posted by Eiríkur @ 11/09/2004 10:05:00 AM
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When I was six I remember sitting in the carbon-monoxide seats of my parent’s late ’70s powder blue station wagon. I would lip-sync to Crystal Gayle’s “Don’t It Make My Brown Eyes Blue” looking over at the drivers of other cars. I was convinced they would see me and think that I was Crystal, broadcasting directly to their AM dial. Recently I realized I was just high on fumes.
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