Dark, dense brooding ... then a field of light ... and back into the thicket. A sacred sword pointed is powerful, humbling the horses.
A day of adjusting, conjuring, bringing all energies to a head. My motivations being pure, I shall prevail. Tonight the zipper comes down!
Tonight the orgies will end and the true morality will prevail. Long live the town! Long live the country! I'm steaming mad at dirt.
I will boldly proclaim the work in which I am engaged. The key to everything is right here ... But first I have some normal errands to run.
Someone said I look like Hugh Hefner. Thanks for noticing. Sorry about the blue material, the sex, in my blog today.
Horse lovers, I'm sorry: "Blood was in a wild spray, horses were falling dead in a terrible arc all around the perimeter of the orgy field."
People tell me it's a natural drive, primal, something necessary for the perpetuation of the species, etc., but I simply don't believe them.
Am I going to say a mumbling word. I say I'm not.