I stood still and frozen all night, after

I stood still and frozen all night, after shooting my best friend. As the sun rose above the distant hills, the blood splattered among the blades of grass blended in with the sky.

I had no idea what to do next. I did know that I was hungry. I walked over to DunkinDonuts got a bearclaw & thought about my actions. Yeah, I shot him, but he kind of was a crappy

teddy bear with all his stitching coming undone and his button eyes falling off. How was I susposed to know that Antiques Roadshow would give him such a high value? Even with the d

alai lama's lipstick stain on its cheek, I had more modest expectations. The teddy bear brought me a large sum that I spent on things that had nothing to do with devoting to a guru

like chimichangas and toenail polish. The teddy bear thought this was unconstitutional, but when I began to read to him from the statutes pertaining to snack foods, he became quite

the enjoyable fellow. The two of us enjoyed a spot of tea together, from time to time, and often wrote funny little songs together. My favorite was titled, "Cynthia, the Pumpkin we

called her because she was round, bumpy and orange. Oh my, the Celts age dreadfully wouldn't you say darling?" The song's title was long, but perfect to sing at tea. My where

abouts have been hazy since I was abducted by the ghosts of Syrian archers while on a summer stroll along Hadrian's wall in a hail storm. Unfortunately they dislike Celts because

Celts can have their heads lopped off, carry their own severed heads to the Holy Well on Omey Island & get them put back on. But my Syrian ghost archer captors disliked me because

I'm also Lebanese. I remain to this day the Headless Horseman of Omey Island. I gallop through the misty hills at midnight with this warning: عودة الى الوراء قبل فوات الأوان!