Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
-- Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 5
Slim and Franke
Happy New Year
Saturday, August 06, 2005
Today Ian turns thirteen. He is glued to the X-box screen He might sell stuff to you Ian tells what NOT to do -- Don’t go panhandling for candy Halloween.