Damn it Fiddlesticks you made me spit out a mouthful of Mt. Dew all over my keyboard. I choked, seriously.

The best line of this poem is "Tomorrow is a never day." There is so much contained in that one line that it confuses my brain with all the colors. Genius.

I TOLD YOU THAT IN CONFIDENCE, BITCH!

Damn that was cold. The poem was cold, and the insult was colder. I clearly have things to learn around here.

So YOU'RE the guy! I knew it! When Fiddlesticks, in his weekly fan e-mails to me, mentions that he "had a dream about open-mouth kissing the nuts of that one dude" I really should have known from the beginning that it was to you he was referring. Silly I.

Exquisite lacework of words here, my friend.