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Wednesday, February 10, 2010

The tomato sauce on my toque sits crusty.

Its brown shit wallows in the ridges of my poriferated hat.
Flakes slowly drift down in front of my face and I begin to wonder,
What did I eat?

What sort of barbary did I indulge in which allowed such terrible mishaps?

A pizza part slipping from the graces of my fingers?
Pepperoni slices defying the laws of gravity itself and lodging its member within my linted cavity.

Perhaps a simple pasta sauce could have also been the culprit. Angry tomato bases waging unholy wars on so much fine wool.

How such edibility resolved its cream on my hat, I do not know. But this, THIS I will say.

Its time for a wash.

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