We Couldn't All Be Cowboys So Some Of Us Are Clowns And Some Of Us Are Dancers On The Midway (And Some Of Us Are Paranoid Schizophrenics)


I fell while walking out of the grocery store today. One could say I was wearing shoes that were too high. One could say that I am lacking in the graceful department. One would be right, only not.

It's more likely that this was the work of the MOLE. Does anyone else suspect that their life is actually an episode of "The Mole" gone awry? If they did a "The Mole: On Crack" I would be the mole. But I'm not the mole here. So which one of you is? And why are you conspiring against me?

The winner of the game, a.k.a. my life, is the last one standing besides the mole. He/she gets the cash and is supposed to be all happy with that. Ummm. Dear Mole, I do not want the money. Well I do, but more importantly I want your head on a stick. Thanks for playing. Love, Me.