!fiebre!

chattering teeth don't always mean cold
mind spilling over with thoughts it can't hold
so full of passion my spirit is raw
i have no control of my own bottom jaw

drugs lack o sleep lack o food or the flu
i don't know what to attribute it to
all i know there's something zipping around
that's causing my hot heart to spark as it pounds

my favorite picture of all time

i've probably taken hundreds of thousands of pictures in my life, when i try to think of my favorite, this pops up first. even of the ones i didn't take, i think this is just my favorite picture ever. thank you val & tadych.

WHO DRANK MY STUFF?

WHO DRANK MY STUFF?
by, William O. Johnson

Coke, tea, or an ice cold glass of water left in the fridge,
no one is to bother.
For an hour or two I work hard in and around the house,
thinking of how refreshing, the cold glass of liquid will be.
But upon my return, and much to my dismay, someone drank my stuff!
The question is who drank my stuff?
WOMAN! WHO DRANK MY STUFF?
"Not I," she laughed.
GRANDMA! WHO DRANK MY STUFF?
"I don't know baby,"
CHILD! WHO DRANK MY STUFF?
"It wasn't me Daddy,"
These were the replies.
My heart was hurt and my throat so dry,
My hands and back hurt I almost cried.
I could not move, at least not from the fridge,
They drank my stuff, something must give.
This is not fair, this is not right,
They drank my stuff, I'm ready to fight!
I will get them whoever they are.
They drank my stuff, they have gone too far.
Who drank my stuff, I just want to know,
But no one owned up to drinking my stuff.
WHO DRANK MY STUFF!

[all punctuation/capitalization is the author's]

here we go