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Waiter. There is a knot of spaghetti in my pasta. You’re exactly right, there indeed is. Can I have it sent back? For? The knot. I don’t see a problem with it, sir. Pasta is not supposed to be knotted. While that it is true, it is only one noodle of many. And besides, it’s … Continue reading
There is a trumpet that I used to know how to play. I would get up and pick it up and it would sing notes that were up too. I was younger then, most certainly younger than I was now, Or at least young enough to fiddle around until I tired or it did … Continue reading
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