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22 April 2008 @ 08:51 am
Barbeque and the Boys are Back Again  
Once, upon a hot tin roof
Two tabbies tore into an almost human hate.
Fur fly, don't bother me;
I've got higher thoughts to snack on.
Cats... cats...
Fort Worth Cats, baseball bats, backwards caps, capslock brats.
Forget the feline furor, it's trenchcoat time.
Break on through, baby,
The end is coming, and it's asking for you.
It knows, you see. It sees the bee in your bonnet, the bats in your belfry, the ghost in your
Kitty litter tossed over oil spills; smells like frying pan french fries
French maid outfits on Japanese schoolgirl uniforms on cheerleader skirts on forty year old
Men on sports; boys of summer; girls of the southwest conference
Grinding, grilling, gritting teeth while the wives lounge on plastic
Swimming pool sweat shirt tail wagging pants slapping laughter
Dogs in the backyard; cats fighting on high
Who's watching the kids?
Are in the basement
Cooking up their own brew
Here, in the sleepy town
Of Columbine.
Current Mood: mischievousmischievous
Current Music: The Doors-Back Door Man