I was considering writing something meaningful for today's post, and then a storm came ripping through Allen County, putting the gazebo at risk, so I thought I would write about that, but the thought of writing anything else about the gazebo, except for its eventual obituary, fills me with disgust.
So, tonight, I'm making things up.
An angry Bedouin woman cursed me with butt-warts because I spit on her ugly baby. The joke's on her. I already had butt-warts.
And, as I haven't written one in a billion years and I'm curious to see if I still have the magic, a haiku:
The wind teaches us
that nothing is permanent,
even gazebos.
Thank you,
Matt Beers
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