and they played scrabble...
and they watched old 'Adam Sandler' flicks....
and their feelings of over-the-top 'WHELMING ness' subsided...
as they roosted , quid pro quo,
in the armpit of East side matriculation..
and as the lone helicopter made its
Umpteenth circle around the stadium of Hogs...
the lesser of MANY evils began to search for 'other prey'...
for it was precisely this kind of NESTING that repelled the parasite
far away from here....
and so....
the banjo in the back of the coat closet...
was once again, brought to the forefront of all that is 'COZY'...
as the mother lioness continued to stir the cauldron of
SOUP for the SOUL....
And, please GOD,
the cub's scrappy throats would be all better by morning...
hence,
alowing KINKO'S , yet again, to appear on
the menu of
DAYTIME PROCLIVITY.....
and so on....
