Talking to my mother just now on the phone, she said, I'm not going to send the comforter, unless they tell me that it'll take three weeks to get the dark pig. What? I think the dead-as-a-doornail Tennyson contest might just have itself a posthumous winner!
Back to your regularly scheduled Ashbery programming.
2 comments:
I am so confused by that statement my head hurts.
Imagine how I felt! My own mother, spewing occult nonsense about dark pigs of the future!
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