Started on Aug 17, 2002.
Completed on Aug 20, 2002.
Blow your manhorn for the thing that was headless. Well, headless meaning that it's head was just a reflection of the world. Like in a bowl. On its head. Well, it was its head. It was the little fish that swear he try to tell me a story that goes like hey dose hepcats blest most by a madman and his Rose Kennedy, the cobbler ran from the automated response and his daughter, unfettered by superstition, laughed and chose to pose for a friend with the waxy Bessy who's arm she chose. From one messy eater to another, sometimes you have to click and nod to strangers rather than talking.
click the outer edges of the grid to
(up one level). Click the center of the grid to
(down one level).
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