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A gaggle of garden gnomes

Engulfed on June 26, 2005.

The garden gnomes, how they love me. They sit there and stare, their keyboards chattering in the night, going clicka-clacka weeple-wopple! until I can’t stand it anymore and I beg them to bag a dog and pass the burritos. But they persist insistently, never desisting, just existing, twisting, blistering, and festering, reminding me of simpler times when the angry floating pi would sing to me of Englebee Troobles and I’d pass the time with a pipe up my nose and a kazoo in my spine.

Now there’s nothing except a gaggle of garden gnomes.

Gnomes.

Gnomes.