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
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
MIKE WANTS TO KNOW
Mike inquired, "If you sell your body to science, do you get the money while you're still alive?'
Mike ask me for air freshener spray.......and matches or a butane lighter..!!!!! No, I didn't give them to him, but I do wonder what his plans were for them.