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The term 'show' has troubled me for a while now.
I do recognize a few 'american films that would qualify for one of
Mr. Wonkas, golden tickets. ( tickets for what, I won't hazard an inkling of a speculation.)
The most terrible show that overstayed its welcome:
Was the thirteen days my husband's brother, parked his 40 ft. mobile home. uhh, on our lawn.
His wife who clung dearly to her inner scabrous conditions;
would only venture forth from her self sequesterings, if her inner scabrous condition,
cooperated enough to manifest itself on her face, ( the platinum presentation)
When The 'Condition', would appear on her arms, she'd gleefully do a little jig,
roll up her sleeves and prepare for a day of....
I saw her, once in the bathroom. She was using foundation, and a variety of eyeshadow coloring within her lines, to enhance her Condition.
Fuck a bunch of television.
Read a book and let the magic of envisioning inside your brain happen.
This welcome mat is always there for you and me.
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