Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Toads, Warts, Yuck.
I'm gonna assume that the kid on the couch is Wart and that the nattily dressed dude pointing and waving his glasses around (who's staring directly at me - please stop that!) is Toad. I don't want to know any more. I'm not interested in their gross names...their sartorial choices...their choice of beverage...the precarious perspective of the coffee table where said beverage is about to slide onto my lap. I'd rather contemplate the perfectly feathered hair of Wart's girlfriend/sister (?)