“Chi son? Sono un poeta. Che cosa faccio? Scrivo. E come vivo? Vivo. In povertà mia lieta scialo da gran signore rime ed inni d’amore.”
Yet another moment in a very necessary recurring series.
Hey! Get off his lawn so that he can nap right in the middle of it.
My alarm system is now a sign on my front door that says COCO LIVES HERE.
They grow these little pumpkins for this very purpose.
October comes in like a lamb, and that lamb gets roasted and slapped between two buns by a lion about halfway through.
Chuck plays an important role in the beauty regimen of my girls.
And it is best served cold so as to elicit the most horrendous pain.
It’s not even a rooster but all I want to do is cock-a-doodle-doo when I look at this.
Where you will find Chuck when he is not writing poetry about his feelings.