Pasta?

Everybody hates my music. But who could blame me? I just ate pasta, with a heaping of bright mushrooms and zucchinis in a darkrick tomato sauce. My Nana used to grow tomatoes back in Italy. Vine-ripened. One of my neighbors always went on & on about the merits of the vine-ripened variety. "None of that store ripened crap," he'd say. This was a guy who liked to visit volcanoes around the world. A vulcanologist.

I just played basketball. Ended up 2-3. Pretty frat. Once I start saying something meaningful, it's already erased. Motley daily strikes are like rum; but they don't taste good. I swear if I ever pitch in the majors I'm only going to throw balls.

Most day are like this. Morning with the mothballs. Screwy fountains of powdery fungus balls and snakebites.

Blasted newt scorched wings; I saw two beetles die today.