One of the unicorn meat eating orphans is missing. Someone in the neighborhood has her trapped, puree-ing her ostrich meat, no doubt, instead of merely shredding it. They don't know how cruel they are being, keeping her small, shining soul from my view. Undoubtedly, that's why they are keeping her...her love.
Onto news of the world...the manic dog is still manic and the other two cats still return at noon and dusk to receive their ostrich meat, shredded. I have committed to writing an arts blog every month and realize how outclassed I am after reading everyone else's blog. It's not that I can't blog, although sometimes I can't. It's just the realization that my appreciation of the arts is limited to Shakespeare's plays, Monet, and Bach and Mozart...this is a small fraction of the arts world, people.
I would like to address real people...instead of my stats. That means feedback. Come on, send me something I can address.