Bashō passed a man kneeling on the sidewalk tying his son’s shoe. Bashō asked himself quietly, “What is the color of a man walking with his child?”
Bashō passed a man kneeling on the sidewalk tying his son’s shoe. Bashō asked himself quietly, “What is the color of a man walking with his child?”
one hundred fifty eightWelcome, you have entered the House of Milk and Tar. Since today is Thursday I suggest you go back to sleep. Otherwise you may want to learn {about} me, read through the {archive} (because the shit I write is just so goddamn fucking awesome), or see what I might be doing {elsewhere}. If you happen to feel joy at what you see here you might subscribe to the {feed}. If you happen to feel anger about what you see here you might read the {disclaimer}.