Je m'appelle Garbo

Life, she is taxing. How I muse on those puppyish days of romping through the uncut grass and rolling about in decaying fish -- amusing, really, how such diversions used to fill my time to such a degree. But now, in my august days, I'm struck with a certain kind of pensive mood, the type that demands loads and loads of time underneath the covers. On with the contemplation!