Tuesday, October 27, 2009

In spare moment

"Pierre felix was working on ecosophy and was a philosophy and could not weigh the difference between quantum and quality. it was like that. i was him, she was me, "


So she wrote. And in the plain narrative of its charm, she'd hear the Treasure Island and the Renaissance flavour of the ladies room. A man's favour granted to a serenaded dame can't be worse!


Now it's 1973. First lecture. Come again, what's that man saying! Its the scream of beaches and riot 'camions' coming to get us. O go off, will ya, I cant see my way out. Its smoky always.... yea yea, well back a t the commune, the hangout for communist drug addicts, and the occasional drifting in schizo , she' d heard all she had to.


Philosophy in the court yard, and then the islands exploded, the demonstrations got bigger, and the word was out, the macro spies are in the net, keep it cool. We're hot to fix, and love to love, fuck them! all sauve qui peut-être!


______________________ yes yes, she ruffled his waxen flaxen hair, its sauve qui peut my suabve Irish boy. Go back to your books, Mister ahahhahataud.