Amongst the great unwashed, I have always pondered what, indeed, is going on in the minds of such an unusual primate; shamed lusts and bachanalian reveries, or just plain visions of grandeur? I for one, since I can remember (which unfortunately is a woefully short stretch), have decided on the former. So much lovlier of a place to believe in that sort of falsehood, no? Ahh hell I am babbling again, enjoy what drivel I can scrounge up in this echoing, and mostly empty cathedral, that I call a mind.
Location
N-Dub