Synchronized Scuba Driving

A social smoker with a sore throat the morning after,
A not-so-instant replay rolls beneath the skull.
Would you like some bread to soak up that multi-grained morning breath?

No resolutions this day.
You've seen through the facade of making promises to yourself.
What good is a promise without a soul to disappoint?
What good is a razor that never draws blood?

One million infant moths swarm to the television set.
They never talk during the movie, so they're cool by me.

The film was teriffic. The plot involved a man killing himself because he had an itch in a hard to reach place. The itch would not go away. He tried everything from asking someone else to scratch it to rubbing up on a tree. Still, relief eluded him. Finally, when he couldn't take it anymore, he took a drive to visit the Grand Canyon and jumped over the side. Funny thing, about halfway down the itch stopped bothering him.

The moths were not impressed.

Camouflage green makes one Hell of a scene.
Killing machine or human latrine? You make the call!

Crissy and I are going down to the Regal Beagle.
You're welcome to come along if you'd like.

P.S. I know who you did last summer!