I never realised that hole in the middle of my soul was plinth shaped.
Ah, to you it's plinth-shaped, I see two people almost kissing . . . You see the young woman in a hat, I see the old lady with the big nose . ..
God, however, may in fact, be a plinth.
good night, luveys. (she says with a sigh, suspecting that the plinth-themed lateshift, having entered its tenth page, is not long for this world...) |