I am stumbling about in an Irish poet like stupor. I am drunk enough to kiss someone - other than my wife. I am an American that often drinks with the best intentions.
I am walking in flip flops - proudly showing my pink painted toes. I am walking sexy and free...singing songs of redemption. I'm not worried about my soul, however.
It's toes are also painted pink. I'm worried about my dear friends souls.
Their soul toes are manicured and bland, ffs.
Peace, brotherdoobie
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