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Infinite Monkeys. Infinite Typewriters.
More in Ode to Displacement Ode to Displacement
Cliché alert - yeh, that's screaming at me now. I guess it was the Monty Python thing preying on my maleable mind (Your Majesty is like a stream of bat's piss - one of Oscar's...Ah, yes, what I meant was, Your Majesty shines out like a shaft of gold, while all around is dark).
'manages' does sound incongruous - the idea was rooted in the theatrical appliance of melodrama (hey - one of the good/bad guys), but that obviously doesn't work - so, some editing to do... Compliments - fuck, yes, I need them, even though they make me cringe and squirm...thank you possum x
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