Created on May 01, 1997.
Its mother having not yet returned from her jump over the moon, he satiated the calf by singing an Irish lullaby until it fell alseep in his arms, leaving his clothing smelling like cows and needing to be washed. Whenever he ironed shirts, he felt as if he was lost in the spirals of a drunken haze with weird shapes playing across his eyes. So grab your map of the Colorful Stars as we drive and if you look to my right, we're off to GridLevel 40, our inflated heads a-bobbin'!
click the outer edges of the grid to
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