en route from the grocery store, i share a crosswalk with six sixtysomething women in bondage pants. what i took to be punk patches on their motorcycle jackets turned out to be airbrushed portraits of antonio banderas as the archangel gabriel. ON THE EIGHTH DAY, said their sleeves in gothic silver caps, GOD CREATED ANTONIO BANDERAS. they had peachy-colored old lady hair.
i challenged paul to a craptastic haiku duel. we'll let you know when someone emerges.
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