Every dawn I send out black feathered bird brains my memory and thought to fetch news. I’ve gid them power of speech, and fret they’ll not come back one on these days, so I’ll sit here thoughtless and without memory. Our lass says, “Thas allus same once thas let thee birds go. Tha sits around […]

via Mad One Eye And His Bird Brains by Paul Brookes — In Between Hangovers