Motion Matters, man.
Things are moving in the right direction.
I'm maintaining the momentum.
The morphology of the membrane has been modified.
Remanufacturing the motivating mojo.
Refashioning the Mandevillian moment.
Molly Maid has come and gone.
The markings of the immoderate no longer mar my apartment.
Will be muscling in the 42 incher and the Tru-Blu-Ray.
Motion pictures are mustering.
Wanna dial M for Murder.
May I marvel again at a Miller's Crossing.
Gonna mull over a Magnolia.
Might be mystified by a Mabuse or a Metropolis.
Can't wait for Melancholia.
Managing the magnificence of my maturing hockey team.
Getting the mainframe back up.
Ditching the mono for a stereo situation.
Marauding through a fridge full of Mill St.
Remounting the Old Masters.
Remastering the Moderate Literati.
Merely a few more meanders down Main Street towards the mind-melting minutiae mutating within the metastasizing mass of the corporate collective.
The immaculate miracle is coming, and with it a million vacations.
Maybe a mix of Menandering Methe and Manoan Macadamians.
Yep, a million vacations is what I have in mind.
After all, you can only drive down Main Street so many times.
Right Kim?
You had me at 'Methe and Manoan Macadamians', even though it was near the end of the post. Oh, by the way, I know what Manoan Macadamians are: tasted them on a Hawaiin journey.
ReplyDeleteGreat one FE. And Kim is dead on. Oh man, I need a million vacations. And I'm damn sick of main street.
ReplyDeleteKim is always right. Great post - hit us with a counterfactual - we can take it.
ReplyDeleteOkay back to sinning.