Jul 27 2011 10:05 pm

when it rains it pours

He’s got mammal asthma. The best treatment is a mouse inhaler, a good face hooking, a log jam wrassle and someone that never says no unless it really matters. No you can’t leave right now. No you can’t drive to Denver. No you can’t get high huffin’ a bronchodilator.

Picking the pockets of wood, the pike bathtubs, until a big fish explodes like a cartoon ballet arc of white and green and you have to wrench it out like you trust your knots. Like you tied the knot. Like you will ever settle into a comfortable routine. Like you will ever not be on edge.


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