Dear Mr. Mouse,
I've lived in some mice ridden places, but of all places, in the shop, you've been rarely seen. I appreciate your silent sneaking, your out-a-site out of sightness, and never once did you get into any of my food. Cheers Mr. Mouse, Cheers. It seems only fitting, that after our exemplary ability to co-exist, that you come to die, in a place that won't stink up the whole shop. Strange to think, your last view was from the underside of the t-bucket. Is this a sign that I too will be spending lots of time underneath the roadster when it becomes road-worthy? Either way, karma earned is a karma learned, or something else that rhymes. Enjoy the dirt.
-Luke
1 comment:
He wanted to be cremated, man.
Post a Comment