That’s the problem with fiction is a
double negative. We like cancer
in our coffee, for example. What
hideous rumors abound! I’m with
the lemur, prefer toasted rice in my tea.
It’s impossible to slow down the busy
bee jokes. It’s impossible to gut this
bear of a rainstorm. I’m impossible.
Damn jackhammering, and can’t
find my inner-city facial. But
now I understand why you were
quoting the Eurythmics. No
matter, I still can’t get the
onion off my eyes.
