I'll go a couple better than that... done, and "done". Been doin' a bunch of that. Her bicycle store burned to the ground... she's sweet on
a 4th generation Duke-lad... 94 years, poof.
The only stereo store that catered to my.... "fussiness" and her Dad's "no, I want an old one-ness": gone. The Missus' "Preloved" clothes
shoppe. Basically the South side of Queen from Bathurst back towards Spadina...gone, maybe torched.
Times change. I've never had a foot massage quite like "that"... everything else is just a tease by comparision. I was wondering what all the
hub-bub was, now I get it. Hopefully regularly. Wink. It's really "that" good. The thing she does with the heel of my "bad" foot is sooooo
Slight of hand and twist of fate...
I spent a bunch of the late seventies and early eighties down Queen W. way... geez, the speaks, 'er, raves were a blast... the Horseshoe... screw it.
Times change. Ibiza comin'. The Kid has no idea... March. We're gonna hafta plant a few trees...
The road show is pulling into Fontana, 18 and 2. 88, top ten. JV says,"I'll be back." OK, if you say... NCTS, Hornaday, Skinner, Johnny B and
Shrub. Shrub will finish holding nothing but the wheel... if he finishes. I'm really thinkin' "it wasn't the Hendrick" power... the kid is a
Emotive Hardcore... not Bertold Brecht but scripted as part of a larger illusory collage... in the town of Nola not far from Vesuvius... Gio became
inquistive. Kicked a hornet's nest, the stakes were fiery of spice. Gio knew better, Gio connected the dots. There were no sun glasses but the only
mica of dogma to blind from the blinding. De Umbras Idearum leads to the Ars Mernoriae. And there Gio lives on today almost illusory and profane in
the freedom eternally internal... idea as life... whether folks can spell or not, dot to dot matrix.
It is the telling of a memory that goes trans-generational - a doing amongst does in a time of dont's. The pure line is the grail of the question to
answer for some of fiction, "42". The perfect is the simplest exotic... vanilla, for with perfection there can be no reason to continue Gio's trip
around the Sun. One. Gio yet lives... I saw the thought and it passed me driven by the blue... I'll remember that. For others the caress of breeze
that brings with it a flavor of fair but the spice of true. Those who reach, ride that wind with a greening to share beyond the page.
A French movie in 1937 inspired a musician some years back... and this happened to happen but not haphazardly - happily into the wind singing truth
beyond ears and years. The sound of times connecting is that breeze of ones lifting the wings of those who would fly where there is no land and no
Sheepdogs don't enjoy pepper and don't fly... unless one throws them really, really well.
Read you 5x5... nominal, "I don't care how the hell they do it in California", Gary Beck, the year he beat "Big Daddy". Props to the "Gar" and
the future of the monoposto, Jockoliner and fond memories of Tommy "TC" Lemons. "Big's staying raht on toppa-that-thair-unit."
How far we've come... a worthy sentiment. Fontana... the Nationwise and NCTS were fun! Bobby Hamilton Jr.? Honda on his driver's suit... when the
"big gun" fires... Shoichiro Irimajiri and Mr. Oguma will smile from the past.
18 and 2... Yup, jus' like at this '20. Kid won't fit in an 18. Dah.
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