you and i are lurid equations of the citizens we are supposed to be..juice is black drunken gash..molten waylard manlike sailor, help me. .weak my knees in garden breeze, god said love lie sucking with me..this is the breaking of the barometer and sky caves in, and the black gets into your shoes..and by coming overflown and rolling and pummeling away every stylized day.. but wait, i am just the same, often on time but i am fine in postal lines. PICA2003