This is the place where ideas are but a whisper, and time the wind of happiness on top of a mountain of good times.
Here, life flows like a river of molten sunshine down the bosom of a grand endeavor that is searching for an answer to an eternal question. A question without words or meaning. A question that can only be answered by asking more questions, less often.
Enigmas are the currency of the land and the bank teller has a tendency to tell boring stories about her cat.
So sit back, invest in the long term and thank yourself for your ability to read.
You find a miniature man in your soup who claims he was shrunken in a horrible experiment, you:
No comments:
Post a Comment