“I like big books and I cannot lie– Y’all other readers can’t deny– When a tome strolls past with its thick old spine– It’s like, damn novel, you so fine…”

It sort of just keeps going like that, the song is way longer than I remembered. Really the only other part worthy of your time would be, “My oblongata don’t want none unless you weigh tonne, son.” And now you know pretty much what I did yesterday. :)

I do have a more legitimate rhyme salvo to lob in your general direction today. We’ll talk a bit more at its close, enjoy!

“Faulty Circuits”, July 9, 2020.

Impracticably negative

Outlook and feedback loops

Crassly dour and segregative

To vulnerable groups

This tribalistic hatred foul’s

A separate class of drugs

Both like to leave with ingrained scowl

And each will render slugs

Self-loathing is the frequent root

To seek out either…