asphalt was a good choice for dessert. it left a flavour that only santa claus could describe with his well-known brevity. santa was an accomplished contemporary haiku master, spent many a long night writing profiles on facebook honing his skill. we could have gone for the ice cream, it can additionally be used to fix flat tires or double as a hanging device for badly painted pictures. never believe the smell coming from a dogs mouth. they want to be human and have learned how to walk backwards away from the scene of the crime. policemen should spend their free time dropping toothpicks on the floor, keeping an eye on who picks them up quickest. newspapers, when folded with skill, make good replacements for old fashioned coffee pots. next time the sun comes up it will announce, "my feet hurt, do we have to walk so much, i thought this was a vacation." i miss the time when clouds used to invite me over for french fries. not the re-heated kind. the ones that are handpicked by arabs, suckerpunched by the french and lulled to sleep by vietnamese monkeys who meditate on rolex watches. music is the earpiece of warriors, smoked fish is a fluid that can ignite any dormant idea that may be laying under a recently formed sand dune.