So there’s this guy. I slept on his floor. You might ask: Why? Seriously, what for?
My run in with Jake was something metaphysical. No mere mistake, conditions were critical.
A night in a bathtub? Everyone’s dressed in fancy suits. Porters, port, whiskey and grub! Nonsense of knowledge garbled in groups.
Then we ran into Frodo, it’s impossible to see him… Chip chap cheerio-yo! Ol’ Benedict’s whim.
Your convictions are stark, your revelations are rad. What matters is dark, my fraternal comrade.