Like:
How the hell did all that dust get on my lens? How? HOW? Who the hell used my lens? And why the hell did that have to take it through DUSTVILLE, ARIZONA and not clean it off after they got back?
And:
Tea time? And how about some of that high class british porn?
And lets not forget:
Trying to find the answer to a question that nobody asked is like trying to sew with a needle and no thread. Eventually you just end up with a heap of unusable materials, some meaningless philosophy, and the naked truth standing there wide-eyed and shivering, and wondering why it never worked out the way it should have.
Genius, non?
4 comments:
Genius, oui.
The notebook shot, clever man. Ive been in a creative lapse since march, its kind of annoying if you ask me.
I'll say it again. Five o'clock shadow works on you.
What does your shirt say?
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