If I had a dime for everytime the monsters in my head start fighting I'd be swimming in a bankload of it just like Scrooge McDuck.
Oh fer crissakes.
I'm not about to enlighten you with the goings-on inside my skitzo little cranium but the end usually has me wanting to bang my head on a hard surface. Though sometimes I just settle with the century old 'palm-face' and I'm good to go.
With the little princess chained to her throne, the girly-girl locked up in a cage overlooked by the barbaric club wielder, the sane one engrossed in an argument with the one that looks like the Bride of Frankenstein and whatever else that menifested itself, it always proves to be far too much for the world at large.
Woe is my cartoony inner mind.
No comments:
Post a Comment