Welcome to the final day of November, the 2013 version. I hope that those of you who ventured into the Nanowrimo wilderness escaped intact, and perhaps even with a story to your name.
Let us mark the end of the month by writing four line poems about: art.
Work was rather hectic today, as I covered a birthday party in the alley in the afternoon while also covering the gym and dealing with the winery (and their caterer) who are having their Christmas party at the lanes tonight.
Then a group of ten high schoolers came in to bowl just as the party was wrapping up and I got to do that as well.
Thankfully the gym was very, very quiet today for whatever reason.
Painted dogs, hair suits,
and frozen famous farts;
Isn't it amazing
what some consider art?