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Tasty Riffs, Continued Requests, and Birds of Precious Metal.
There is a whisper in the air that says, "Come out, come out. Your house is dark and dull. Be out here with me, the Summer Air." The trees wave in agreement, nodding towards the hills. I know that as I walk away from the homes, deep into the park, the din of the city would be replaced by the hushing of the leaves. "Shhhhhh. Fox doesn’t understand. Shhhh, look at the Waitress reviews- and Craig Ferguson went great. Shhhhhhhhhhh." (...)