Wednesday, August 17, 2005
A field of webbing spans the gap between bloated stumps and slowly creeps up the digits, someday my hands will be mits. Bungling and incompetent, pinkies and thumbs are identical, minimalist and repetitive. Ten pot bellied pigs stuffed full of blood sausages and grain alcohol could paint with more grace.
# posted by Corny @ 10:29 PM 
