Friday, January 28, 2005

My Refridgerator

My friends in the refridgerator have a life of their own, when the door is closed and the lights are out the eggs and mayo dance with the left over BBQ bones. The individually wrapped slices of cheese slow dance to Dylan, the old milk no longer just turns to penicillin. Tomorrow I must throw that piece of fish away, it reminds me of a real bad experience!


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