Marvin, I'm clicking and nothing is happening, am I there yet, am I there yet? Click click click, nope nothing.
I have lost site of Toto and the yellow brick road. I am not sure I have the right shoes on. Oh noooooooo, I have been transported back to being a peasant, no money, no job just a bucket full of dreams and wishes covered with a blanket of hope, with paintbrushes on top.
Next day while walking amongst my weedy garden, I found a genie bottle...Wahoooo!!! Rubing harder and harder, now trying really hard, there's smoke (no mirrors) still rubbing.....**** genie, no, not another packet of tim tams. I said "Send me directly to the workshop of Marvin Mattleson or at least Tim Tyler, you @#!*, not tim tams, what will I do with all these packets of tim tams. Paint with them?
That afternoon, walking back in side with tim tams, shoulders rounded with tears in my eyes, dragging my feet, I decide to click some more instead. Click, click, click, Am I there yet? Am I there yet? Am I there yet? Am I there yet? Sob, Sob. Am I there yet? Am I there yet? Sniffle, Sob, Sob, as I fall down to the ground in a comatised sleep dreaming of laughing and painting with Marvin at his workshop in Atlanta.
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Hybrid Mode
