Forced Apathy Revenue Sharing

The subject of economics is treated peripherally as play money to the turn-of-the-century board game in transcendent time. A sound economy requires a deaf ear and blind eye, so told three dairy mendicants in their collection of the milk. As one who genuflected to the trade, hear this, Bartertime is nigh, and one makes the best of her or his time before 2009 initiating his neighbor. The guts to leave the temple, overturning tables, “I don’t want this!” That was the drill.

And did I say 2009? Cuz NAY, it wuz Nowtime. Basque in the shunshine. All shifting sands come to rest in berms of stone, and in kind flow south-southwestward to the place salmon fisherman Ian Anderson calls The Wood. Lester’s carburetor demographic shifted to Tiffany’s spheres and that magazine went under. I hear Crawdaddy cold-shifted to it-style webdom but bread pudding yields no proof without the bread. And that’s a bakery that finds itself in short supply, oh yeasty beasties. Consider the plight of the goat, and the scope of its e-scape.