A long time ago there were three explorers, each was 7 feet and 3 inches tall. Their greatest discovery was the backwards mountain. The backwards mountain was very small, and it sat between two forward mountains that were very big. They never climbed the backwards mountain.
Imagine if someone took a lake -- an entire effin' lake -- and moved it, like I dunno, five or ten feet to the left. After a few initial glances you'd notice that something ain't quite right, but soon enough it'd all become familiar again, like nothing ever happened. That's exactly what I want you to believe. The lake never moved, and you're imagining things, weirdo.
Last night I wondered for a moment what it was like, on a day-to-day basis, to be Mister Ray. The thoughts escaped me quickly because I was too busy studying the lyrics to The Flying Burrito Brothers' second album . . . I realized that the last time I really listened to this album--and I mean *really* listened--was in Illinois. I don't recall where exactly, but it was in Illinois. Somewhere. While having lunch this afternoon I realized that "Wild Horses" was inherently flawed. Deeply, deeply flawed... so I rewrote it, and now it's better.
Once there was a caveman named Little Ricky. On a cloudy day he met a dinosaur that was also named Little Ricky. They were happy to share the same name, but thought that maybe it could get confusing. So, from then on, they went by Little Ricky the Caveman and Little Ricky the Dinosaur. They lived happily ever after.
Hi. I'm Dan Haugh. I design websites and all things printed. Okay then, thanks a lot!