. The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog. There over by the bush. The poor thing is in a terrible state. My cleaner came earlier. She wanted to reschedule the schedule which was updated in a rush when everything else got confused, and plans went sort of off the rails. An eraser just didn’t cut the revolutionary temperament at all— I often wonder why folks get through so many plastic bags, make a journey longer than necessary, run out of gas every other day, lose the car and kids at the Mall, and so on. It's one of those life mysteries that squares with the rest on a break in the Caribbean and rolls out into dotage with an intoxicated giggle and a dead mosquito— Note to zen-Self: Anyone can get a divorce, stupid. A CLEANER is a workshop. An artform in progress. UNBUTTON YOUR FACE THIS MAY TAKE A WHILE .
