Roses, roses, showering me in adoration. One must know thy addictions by first name, and mine was fame. I'll admit, the comedian's life is darker than the skeleton's closet, where the only light available shines through the keyhole. How pressed was my eye, to see the world for what it was. A big nothing.
Thick skin garnered me thick stacks of green bills. Green bills cost me my soul, and a woman stole my drive. My height cast a shadow over my newest muse, until my muse became a mouse, scurrying about in my affairs. Rightfully so, she spotted an error.
"The ink is smudging, and look how they've butchered your name! It reads Milk Butler: Official wag of downtown London."
A full box of 3.5 x 2 business cards paraded at my feet, with 'Mrs. Bordeaux print' labeled on the box. Three-hundred c
