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Empty trees. Charles had never tasted a burger; Charles had never climbed up the swollen branches of a garden tree. Charles had died when he was only two and not tall enough to reach the landing light. I still cried every Thursday at the same time in the morning; I still checked his lifeless room for courage to go on. Mary wasn’t here anymore. She had died in her own way; as had I.            I sat in the garage letting smoke curl around me, touching my hair and burrowing into my clothes.

Greetings to you all.

Henry Chinaski has finally been evicted, his parting

words to me were along the lines of do some work you drunken bum-his body can be found on the local municipal golf course bunker three. So welcome to the fresh zone. We will be discussing wonderful things-why are there never any point of view shots from the zombies in zombie ficks? I will go into this in detail with my good friend shuffles and his sleek pet dog lucky in the future. It will also be a blatant self promotional promotion(KEY NOTE to office workers jargon like this is priceless) There was a break in the flow here as I played with text colour and nearly lost an eye-not for the faint hearted. I will be avaible for comments on stuff but I am very likely not to respond for some time and only answer questions relating to hair products and food dye usage.