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The stars they are aligning. And there's nothing more powerful than a
bull brazenly beating down the doors to destiny, your chosen destiny,
the one that makes you dream dreams the size of planetary moons and
shoot the moon and go for broke and be, be, be, whatever you desire. And if you ever need help
remembering where it was that you were headed when the billboards and
flash ads and nightmare crap reality TV and slick magazines fulla other
people's dreams scrambled your signal with all their bullshit
rE-Ail-i-tee... Call me. I'll remind you.
We're going to the top, Baby. Fasten your seatbelts.
I'm drivin' this little piggie all the way home.
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Crawfish, Suicide, Big Floods.. No sympathy for Ripping through the surf
-Lord Duke RSM
the invisibly ill
with Jack Nicolson abandon
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