GREBYARD

cemetery.jpg Ah, dear reader, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Ree - der: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of two steps down the palate to tap, at two, on the teeth. Re. Durr.

Huh? Oh, just fooling around. You can hang up with the attorney. You wouldn't get anything out of me anyway, it'd be like trying to get blood out of a turnip. Who would try to get blood out of a turnip, anyway? Someone who just fell off the turnip truck, that's who. And fell really hard, so one side of their skull caved in, because they'd have to be way stupid to think they could get blood out of a turnip. It's kind of like pulling an idea out of your ass. Who'd want that idea? Not me.